Jezabella
by JulieVans
Summary: Bella, a sexually charged minx addicted to reading erotica, meets Edward at college. They're restrained by social expectations, pent up passion, and secrets from the past. Can Edward, with his nosy nature, finally show Bella how to move on, let go, live, and love? Can she help him get past his insecurities? Shenanigans ensue. All Human - MATURE. (Chapters are IN REVISION)
1. Chapter 1: Humiliation

**[Author's note. I began this book last year in December, today is 6/30/2013. I am still working on it and I'm updating the first chapters as I progress. Soon, all of the chapters will be worked over and entirely revised/edited for tense flux, spelling, grammar, punctuation, and continuity errors. This first chapter was reworked and updated on 6/30.**

**When I began this story I had no plot, no idea other than the concept of E&B at college, together. As the story progressed I defined the plot and gave them a specific direction to go in. This first chapter is incredibly long, and I apologize. Rest assured, I have every intention of reworking each chapter as I have done this way to bring it up to a higher standards of writing. If you can't stand reading through errors, you might want to wait until I label it as 'REVISED' in the description – you've been forewarned.]**

**Jezabella – Chapter One - Humiliation**

She muffled a giggle with a hand to her mouth. The joint of her knuckle pressed lightly to her lips as if it would offer a genuine buffer against the sound. She was reading her favorite scene from this book. It was sweet, cute, flirty and sexy._ "He has an erection. Dear God. He has an erection. I can feel it against my thigh…"_ The moment where Mallory realizes that Artie has 'a thing' for her.

No matter how many times she read it – it made her laugh. An insight into an embarrassing predicament; real life saucy love, sex and romance.

That was the problem, though. Even though she stood, sat or walked quiet and discrete while reading, her favorite author, Charlotte Stein, always made her laugh. Amid all the lascivious scenes and scandalizing pillow talk of threesomes, blowjobs and paddling's, Bella found it adorably cute and funny. She couldn't resist Charlotte's frisky humor. Sexy, yes, but Stein's charm was well beyond reproach.

It was no big deal. Sure, she has a guilty pleasure: reading erotica. She read it, all the time. At a red light, in the doctor's waiting room, in line at the grocery store. She always had her phone, and she always had images of naughty twosomes and intense threesomes dancing around in her mind.

It was obvious she was addicted to it – porn on paper. Unlike the watching kind, this was the kind she could escape to all the time. It wasn't just porn, though (a defense which she labeled as the Playboy Defense, 'It's not just the good pictures, they have really good articles too.') but for her it was quite true.

She felt that Stein's vivid, animated style could make any absurd situation - Zombie Apocalypse and Office Spankings – seem entirely real, and even normal. Like, of course the last woman on earth would run into the last two men on earth and they'd have access to a helicopter and a safe-house. Of course. This is just common sense in 'Reawakening.' Who doesn't have that? _Geeze._

So there she was, leaning against the wall outside of Theater Room 503. In an awkward building that was like a parking garage converted into classrooms: the winding hallway outside with its concrete exoskeleton snaking up and up.

Class was late. Professor Tillin wasn't to be seen – perfect time to indulge. _"…so heavy and so obvious I don't even need a paradigm shift to…"_

"So, what'cha reading?"

_Damnit_. There came that pesky question. Never in her life was she going to admit what she was reading. She always dreaded the moment that someone asked. As if reading a book on her cheapy phone is some sort of a public invite into the ritualistic inquiry. You'd think that people would interpret her drawn-in stance and absorption to be a 'do not disturb' sign over her head lit up in neon.

No, that would make her sinful indulgence just too easy to get away with.

She smiled politely, glancing up to meet the expectant and bright toasted almond eyes of a young man. A mess of burnt cinnamon hair glistening in the sunlight, and a quirked eyebrow. Waiting. Genuinely curious in what she's actually reading.

Her breath hitched. She tried to tell herself that it was just the book, the question – but it wasn't. It was him. He was hot. Her thoughts sort of muddled together. Surely he was the inspiration for a few of these books. 'Raw Heat' or maybe 'Tigerlily.'

_What did he ask?_ She tried to fish her mind back to the shore.

_Oh, yes, the book._

"Nothing." She smiled, shrugged, and went back to reading, searching the page to find where she left off.

Only now the scandalous words seemed to be jumping off the screen at her in bold, _"…__**Figure it out. It's just there, like a pointed finger**__…"_ She flushed, knowing all too well that this is part of the thrill: reading her erotica in public near people. Usually, though, she didn't have a hot guy asking her about it. An old lady in the waiting room trying to pass time, sure. Sometimes a younger mother who also wanted to drown herself in fiction, absolutely. But a guy? A male? No, more than that. He's a man. A very handsome, attractive man standing right next to her…

Asking about what she's reading.

Suddenly, she couldn't concentrate. Wrestling with her clouded thoughts she intensified her focus, screaming the words out in her head, _"…ARTIE IS TURNED ON…"_Her face heated up another 20 degrees. She stopped reading and just stared at the page trying to reign in her wayward arousal.

Usually reading was entertaining, maybe sometimes arousing. But to get turned on? That's not usually what happens, here. Definitely not at this scene. Maybe at a lashing scene with cuffs and spankings. Or a first kiss scene. This hard-prick scene? No, it just made her laugh. Artie was an adorable, reserved dork that was just too lovable.

Growing paranoid, she flicked to the menu, reduced the text size. Yes, smaller words meant more concentration meant less attention given to his casual stance with his hand hitched into his pant pocket. Right. Next. To. Her backpack. Smaller words meant he couldn't read over her shoulder, either. Of course, this was just an illusion – no one could read her already preferred small text, anyway. That didn't occur to her, though.

That didn't seem to help. She just became more aware of the words "_**FUCK**_" and "_**COCK**_" and "_**THIGH**_" that were highlighted with blinkies and bling, literally floating up off the screen and hanging in the air. _Jesu_s. She felt a bead of sweat trail down her temple.

She freaked out at that, switched her phone off.

"What?"

_What the fuck?_

"Why'd you stop reading? You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Oh God, her skin amped up another 20 degrees. Damn, it was hot. January, and she was supposed to be cold on the 5th floor outside the school building. Instead, she was having hot flashes.

Looking away from him, down the snaking, spiraling ramp abomination, she shoved the phone into her coat pocket. Feigning innocence.

No, she wasn't reading about thrashing bodies and hard cocks. Not at all.

Denial.

"Sorry, didn't mean to put you off your book. You were laughing, I thought you were enjoying it. Made me curious."

_Please stop talking about it._ She nodded her head, wanting to bail. His voice was quite captivating, though, with sort of a charming, seductive quality. Crisp and clean like a smooth wine. Words just seemed to roll effortlessly off his tongue.

_Christ._ His tongue, lots of fun happens with tongues.

She quit those thoughts, looked down to her backpack, and considered yanking it up. Then didn't when she realized that to do so she'd have to bend over sideways, bringing her incredible close to his jean clad…

Then it occurred to her that class was going to start.

…Any minute now.

If she walked away, though, he'd know. Oh God, he'd know. He'd know she was reading smut – reading smut and loving it. No, it's not smut – she told herself – it's artfully written romance.

Cunts. Pussy. Dicks. Cocks. Ass.

Art.

Tongues. Mouths. Tits.

Fine Art.

She kept quiet and still. Maybe if she was still enough he'd forget she was there? Yes, blending in like a chameleon. _Look at all those lovely leaves dead on the ground._ She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to tune awareness of him out, breathing in the frigid cold smell of distant exhaust and the musk of concrete.

"So you going to tell me what it was about?"

_Jesus Fucking Christ why can't he shut the fuck up_? She shook her head no.

She had to change the subject. "Did you get the assignment done?"

Still not turning toward him, not wanting to risk looking at him. '_I know'_ would be tattooed onto his forehead, she'd turn a vivid ruby and it would be permanent, she just knew it. It would stain her skin and she'd be like a big fucking cherry forever. Like a child caught with her fingers in the cherry Kool-Aid packet like a lick-a-maid fix-stick.

Oh God – _cherries_. She felt sick. Why was the Professor so freaking late?

"Yeah, I did. What did you do yours on?"

She did risk turning to him, then, seeing the conversation was going away from her scandalous obsession. School-talk was neutral territory.

She met his eyes and was captivated by how they seemed flecked with green and blue. They weren't entirely golden brown. She paled when she remembered what she did her assignment on: sex scenes in modern entertainment.

_Bloody Hell_. She couldn't answer that, either. Not in the prick tainted conversation with Mr. Sizzles. Because that's what his eyes were doing, it was like they were sizzling – green flecks of hot oil on his copper frying pan orbs.

"I can't remember," she offered.

He huffed out an airy laugh. "You don't remember?" Obviously he was not drinking the Kool-Aid.

"No…I was sick…so…I sort of forgot." Was her nose growing? She felt more sick, her stomach actually tensed up. "What about you?"

"I did mine on war."

She felt her body relax in relief just a little. She did hers on sex and of course this Male Guy Man did his on violence.

She wanted to ask more, but couldn't bring herself to poke and prod seeing as how she wasn't willing to fess up. Nope, definitely not doing that. There would be no "sex scenes" rolling off of her tongue.

Much to her relief, the Professor was speeding his way to the door, keys jingling in one hand, stacks of papers and books anchored by the other. _When did all the students arrive?_ The entire corridor was full. She was not at all paying attention. She just shrugged it off and breathed another sigh of relief, scooped up her backpack, flinging it over her shoulder.

They made their way into class. She sat in her usual seat; row two, seat four. She considered slipping off her coat, but decided to keep it on. It's thigh-length span of rain slick fabric roughed and bunched under her as she slid into the seat.

Mr. Sizzling Eyes, though, deviated from his normal seating plan. Which was just 'anywhere but right there.' Instead, he sat next to her; row three, seat four.

She felt her stomach ball up and nearly reject its own self.

This was class, though, and there'd be a lecture and lots of note taking. She could get lost in it, and take excessively detailed notes. Absolutely. Class would be over real quick, really. She fished out her notebook and pen and focused herself so she could be 100% thorough. Time consuming, now doubt, notes for today would be meticulous. Maybe they would even be in French. She mentally prepped herself for the effort, tuning Mr. Sizzles entirely out.

Roll call, lecture. Lecture. Lecture. Lecture.

Her hand started to cramp, she paused in her writing and flexed it. After ten minutes she had stopped with the French and after 25 she was now onto Chicken Scratch. She had all but forgotten about Mr. Sizzles. The plan was working.

Until he coughed.

Only, it didn't sound like a cough, it sounded like he was muffling a laugh.

Her skin roasted, again. God it was like an oven in the room. She scooped her pen back up, more notes. Notes. Notes. Notes.

After 40 minutes Professor Tillin began to discuss the results of the assignment. The assignment: create a music video that coupled music with imagery, thereby exploring the reason or purpose of said topic. It was an exercise at blending visual with auditory, side lined with a report. In the end, it was fun. She used her favorite saucy movies and took still photos and clips of various sex scenes and set them to the song 'Physical' by Nine Inch Nails.

She didn't look up at the teacher as he shifted topics, not once. She was so intent on writing down every little thing he had to say she wasn't even processing it as she wrote. Almost verbatim, "…Watch videos that were over 95%..." and "…this one is made by Bella Swan…sex scenes…" followed by, "…her sexuality cross examination is very thorough…"

Music started to play as she finished off the last sentence, her writing lagged behind what he said. She still didn't look up, she just waited for him to continue, only half aware of what was going on - until she heard a faint grinding guitar rhythm piping out through the sound system.

She froze, her skin actually went ice cold and suddenly her fingers were numb. She couldn't write anymore.

"…I want to take you baby…"

_Oh God_

"…I want to take you out…"

_Oh God Please No. Let this be someone else's music video._

But it wasn't, it was hers.

If only she could actually die of embarrassment. How they were going to put that on her death certificate, she didn't know, but if only that would kill her. She knew that she looked green, like a giant green Gumby thrust into liquid nitrogen. She willed her heart to stop but it just wouldn't. The damned thing just kept on going. Beating erratically in her chest, blinding her vision.

She didn't dare look up, she knew what she'd see.

Trent Reznor's voice rang out with a tense, blinding guitar rhythm, _"…when you wear that sweet dress…"_ And oh God if it wasn't just horrible that she knew what was on the screen: Mr. and Mrs. Smith grinding in a sensual love-fight on the floor.

Trent groaned out,_ "…But you're too physical…,"_ In the far corner of the room she heard someone hiss - actually hiss in a breath loud enough to be heard over the grinding baseline. She knew why, too: on the screen for that line was Selena and Michael Craven going at it in a warehouse, her eyes flashing to blue as she vamped out.

"…I want your rowhouse maybe…," was grated out with animalistic viciousness as Nate and Brenda got it on in the janitor closet at an airport from the show 'Six Feet Under.'

"…The heat of your breath…," Mickey and Mallory Knox from Natural Born Killers.

Oh, and it was so much worse when Trent started moaning out with a pleading primal undercurrent, "…just too really, FUCK, NO…," as the infamous yellow-glove scene from Flight Club flickered by.

Somewhere during all the this she was sure she had torched up and burned away.

When her video was finally over the teacher resumed talking, she would have taken notes, but she was still frozen, waiting to thaw. Her ears were ringing.

Mr. Sizzles poked her arm, nearly scaring her to death. She didn't dare look at him, she kept her eyes down to the paper. Her heart hammering so strongly it made her teeth knock.

What had she missed? She tried to think back through the assignment info to where it said 'I'll show your shit in class you dumbfuck' but couldn't recall anything. She didn't see this coming or she would have done something more convivial like 'flowers' or 'teddy bears' or some shit.

"Mrs. Swan."

She jumped in her seat. _What!_

"Mrs. Swan, are you with us?"

_Of course not! How could I be?_ She sensed the door in the back of the class – if she took off, now, she could make it. She could feign illness. She was feeling rather horrid right now, surely that would count.

She couldn't move, though, she had transmuted into that pesky mineral known as ice, remember?

"Mrs. Swan. Do you mind telling a little bit about your scene selections and how it relates to your overall premise that you presented?" Professor Tillin wasn't sensing her mental state.

She blanched, but being frozen, she couldn't even look up – not that she was trying, of course.

"I'm not sure," her voice cracked and wasn't more than a whisper. The class was snickering and talking. Her ears flared. She didn't even want to imagine what everyone was talking about – it was too humiliating.

"Your paper was very well written." He flipped through the pages of it. "Here you state that 'the modern penchant for sexual deviancy isn't revolutionary, it is, however, more socially acceptable…" He walked to the middle of the classroom, away from the podium. "…So? Are these images considered sexual deviancy to you?"

_Oh God, please stop._ She didn't know what to do. If she wasn't planted into the stupid chair she would have fled the humiliation. She needed to get out, drop the course immediately, and take an '_I' _for_ 'I'm a complete fucking moron.'_

She took a deep breath, she was going to have to look up and give some sort of answer. Obviously she was not an idiot seeing as how she made an 'A' – even though she felt like one.

She cleared her throat, struggling to find some type of bravery or numbness at least. Trying to ignore that Mr. Sizzles was just two feet away, if that. Were there two entire tiles between her desk and his? This new mortification heavily eclipsed the embarrassment she suffered outside before class.

"No." She finally got out, "I didn't think sexual deviancy was appropriate visual content."

"Ah, I see." He quirked his brow. "So these images represent what, then?"

She cleared her throat again, she could feel her skin prickle and simmer with the laser beams of everyone's piercing eyes looking at her, scorching her flesh – her induction to Hell. The girl in front of her actually turned around in her seat, a valiant effort with a full gripping-the-seat-and-twisting-entirely-180-at-the -waist maneuver.

Bella wanted to puke.

"So, Mrs. Swan, what do these images represent in relation to your report?"

She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat, sensing the eyes of Mr. Sizzles on what was hopefully her face and nothing else.

"I, ah…" …_am NOT married_. Though that seemed trivial to point out. Instead, she tried to remember what the hell she did write, "I think they cover the social appeal of premarital…," struggling to say sex but it was hung up in her throat, "…relations." She furrowed a brow, not quite all of them did. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were married - in the movie – but close enough.

Professor Tillin smiled subtly with professional satisfaction. How he could maintain a sense of calm she had no fucking clue. She felt herself sag with relief, maybe he sensed her discomfort. Maybe he'd move on and end the torture.

Her breath hitched again as he looked down at her paper. Crying out for mercy entered her mind. Then, she thought of Charlotte. What would Charlotte say? No, what would the Slutty Little Bookwork from 'Control' say? _Yes, now there's the inspiration! There's the courage!_ Bella was in Intro to Theater and Dance, after all. Yes, for the moment she'd just pretend she was Ms. Harding from 'Power Play' taking control of an awkward and uncomfortable situation related to sexuality and close quarters. Without the whipping ruler, of course.

So when he asked, "Does Brad Pitt represent anything in particular?" She was ready to answer.

Bella sat up straight, "Yes, he represents the sexual allure of the modern male in which masculinity and gruffness has been slowly replaced with a more gentile and subtle quality. Masculine, yes, but not overtly so." What a liar! In reality: she just thinks he's hot with that Adonis Belt; going at it with Marla Singer in 'Fight Club.' The glove scene just makes her laugh, just like Charlotte Stein's work. Sex doesn't always have to be intensely dry and serious.

The Professor quirked an eyebrow and tucked the paper-clutching hand under the other arm, and shifted his stance. He was attractive in a Sean Connery sort of way. Sean Connery? Did she put a 007 sex scene in there? She stifled a smile, suddenly regretting the modern-edge and wishing she had covered 'the evolution of sex scenes' instead. Or debauchery – she could have done that, too, but opted out of that idea. That would have spared her this problem, that's for sure.

"I see, very interesting." His smile deepened.

Now that she was in control of herself – or at least pretending to be a savvy sexually charged business woman – she was disappointed when he went on to show the next student video. At which point Bella shut class out entirely. Instead, she started to doodle – nothing phallic, she made sure of that.

Classical music started to play – some unknown piece. She didn't want to see it, risking eye contact with other students. She just focused more heavily on her non-sexually charged doodle. Doodle. Doodle. Doodle.

Movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye – a slight shift. The situation now raced back to her mind. Mr. Sizzles. Yes, Mr. Sizzles was still sitting so close she could reach out and touch him.

_Oh God._

He did that, before all this started he reached out and touched her to get her attention while she tried to die and vanish from her seat. Just remembering the contact, she blazed again like electrified Helium in a neon sign. A flaming red that spelled out 'secret sexual pervert.'

_What time was it?_ She tried to think through the minutes and came up with nothing helpful. She could still have an entire hour left for all she knew. Dare she risk a glance at her phone to check the time? Discreetly, she slid it out of her pocket, trying very hard not to draw attention to herself. She pressed the button on top, the screen lit up, only ten more minutes in class. She could make it through ten more minutes. Right when time was up she was going to dart straight out the door, knocking people over if she had too.

More doodles. Stars and stripes.

Five minutes.

More doodles. Flowers this time.

Two minutes.

She started to jiggle her foot, waiting anxiously for the last moments of class to drift by. Suddenly, the person in front of her stood up, she snapped her head up and looked around. Class was out early. So much for darting out the door. Maybe no one would talk to her if she waited and left last. She sat in her seat, patiently letting people pass by as they filed out of the room. She slowly packed her notes away.

Bella gradually stood up, letting everyone leave the room before making her way out, and breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Sizzles was also gone. Like dousing a fire with foam.

Then, she nearly died of an aneurism when she stepped out of the classroom and Mr. Sizzles was waiting for her. She at least wasn't looking up, no, she was intensely eying the concrete walkway as if it's intricate marbled pattern was enthralling. Therefore, no accidental eye contact. Where'd that newfound sense of empowerment go? It was left behind in the seat.

"Hey, nice work."

She considered running, but outside the covered walkway there was ice so that was a bad idea. There was only one way out, too, and he'd just catch her. She struggled to recall a glimmer of strength that she felt before.

"Thanks."

Speech was at least taking place, but her pace was hurried, going as fast as possible without breaking into a run. His long, determined strides were more than able to keep up. She made her way down the snaking ramp and couldn't help but sense his posture, he had one hand threaded under his backpack strap and the other swung freely at his side. An unencumbered stride, entirely casual and relaxed. He was tall and lean, but didn't seem weak. Dark, almost grey-blue jeans, and a black coat.

Then, she hated herself for being so embarrassed – why couldn't she just let it go and deal with it? Was it really so bad? Her pace slowed a little as she vowed to stay in control and not freak out anymore. Was it so wrong that he just wanted to talk? She slowed down a little more. Feeling awkward, but determined to stay in control.

She glanced up over at him, trying to make eye contact but falling just lip-shy of the mark. He smiled. Her skin faded to a sickly white.

He cleared his throat, "So what were you reading about before class?"

Jesus, what was with this guy?

Eyes forward, she shook her head, "No, I can't say."

"Why not? Is it as embarrassing as the video? Because the video was great, don't get me wrong. Your face was so pale, though, I thought you were actually going to get sick." He laughed a little.

_Jesus, a little bit of salt on that wound?_

She sighed. Yes, was she so easy to read? The only one unaware of her plight seemed to be The Professor. There was just no way in hell she was going to fess up to it, though. Mr. Sizzling Eyes would forever have to wonder and be in the dark. No torches here.

Nope.

She ignored him as she made her way down the ramps, stairs and around into the courtyard, watching out for ice. Not at all intent on letting him save her in some slippery stupid White Knight moment, Hell no.

A frigid whip of air raked her nose, carrying the smell of cigarette smoke and pine cone. She shivered and shrugged down inside her jacket as she set out over the grassy courtyard between buildings, crunching her way through, entirely avoiding the walkway. For a moment she was so successful at ignoring Mr. Sizzles that she forgot he was even there. _Right there_, walking next to her in silence.

Now she was just annoyed. Didn't he get the hint? She was not interested, and right now she really wanted to pick up where Artie and Mallory had left off in their moment of awkward sexual realization in the hot tub. Normally she would be fully immersed, reading through a few pages before arriving at the next class.

Well hell, she didn't have to read it in order to know that the next sentence on the page was, _"…The squirming or the words or fuck knows what has turned him on, and now his big, stiff cock…,"_ That was all she could manage while being physically tuned to Mr. Sizzles and his _every single_ casual, suave male movement.

Was he wearing black leather stompers? _Holy shit,_ she nearly tripped when she saw his shoes. His jeans were crumpled and roughed up when he hurriedly dressed himself and jammed his feet into his boots. He didn't even bother to tie them. Just so unkempt and messy.

"You ok?" he asked.

_Oh God, no – no White Knighting_. She said a prayer.

She looked up to the building – not quite there, yet. Just one more minute.

"Why are you following me?" Because it was really annoying, she had to know. Though it was not enough to compel her to look up at him. Eyes on the ground.

"We have the next class together," he smirked.

She wanted to turn around and walk the other way, but her absences kept that from happening. "Jesus, do we?" she groaned.

"You haven't noticed?"

She shrugged, feeling slightly stupid. "No, I don't pay attention to people."

"Yeah, because you always have your face to your phone. You know, for the longest time I always wondered what you were reading. I thought maybe if I asked you'd actually tell me." His voice tensed a little, "Since you love it so much."

They were finally scuffling across the concrete walkway.

"Hah, hell no. No way." She shook her head but laughed a little.

"Why not?" At the doorway, he stepped ahead of her to open the door.

Wow, no one had ever opened a door for her before. Well, maybe they did and she never noticed? She considered that as she went through and looked up at him.

"What?" He smirked again when her eyes met his – he did have a handsome smirk. Those eyes, though, _Jesus._

"What?" She crumpled her forehead trying to figure out what she missed.

"You really don't pay attention, at all, to what's going on around you, do you?"

"Apparently not." She laughed louder at that. It was becoming obvious to her she'd missed out on God knows what while immersed in her literary fixation.

"If I wasn't walking with you, you'd be reading, wouldn't you?"

She nodded emphatically as they waited for the elevator. "Absolutely."

"So…"

She rolled her eyes at him, the prodding was getting annoying.

"If I poke at it enough, maybe you'll get pissed and tell me so I'd leave you alone." He smiled, his eyes flickered with those flecks of blue and green in that puddle of copper under the fluorescent lighting.

She sighed with frustration, something insdie told her he was telling the truth. He wouldn't let it go. In fact, she began to suspect that he'd actually go about more discreet measures to figure it out - like some sort of a sleuth. Hell if she was going to let that happen. So she decided to tell him, why not? Well, sort of. She thought back through all sorts of titles to give him – searching for something not revealing at all. Because 'Restraint' was too telltale, much too much.

"Well, 'The Horizon'…it's a sci-fi thing." _Good one!_ Science fiction, well, with sex in space.

He grinned ear to ear. "Sci-fi? That doesn't sound so bad."

If he only knew.

"So what's it about?" He quirked a brow.

She smiled crookedly, masking her secret. "Oh, this Captain named Quade gets stranded in space on a ship called The Horizon and…" she trailed off instead of saying 'shenanigans ensue' – because Stein says that, often. She just shrugged. "…stuff happens. It's stupid, I guess."

He raised his brow with a slight smile. "No, not stupid if you like it so much."

Finally – the elevator arrived.

Oh _God_ no – the elevator arrived.

Her brief moment of relief was suddenly plunged into hyperaware disaster. How many erotica novels involved elevators and hot men? Too damn many.

He stepped aside to let her in and even reached around to push the button for her. She was on fire, as if her body had spontaneously combusted and she was just torching away. She stood quietly in the center, not knowing what to do. Then noiselessly took a huge, gulping breath of air to calm herself, promptly losing her eyes on the reflective surface of the metallic walls. Brushed Aluminum? Or a cheaper painted plastic?

Why on earth did he have to have a class with her, and two in a row at that?

Her heart was beating so strongly it was making her body jut with the intense rhythm. Breath in. Breath out. She wondered what was worse, the intense closeness, or the intense silence.

Silence is golden unless you're in an elevator with sex on your brain and Mr. Sizzles. There were so many books on that: boy meets girl on an elevator, shenanigans ensue. Some of them were really fucking hot, too.

"You like literature class?" Of course, her accent brought it out as 'lit-tra-tur.'

He snorted, "Nope. How many times do we need to deep-think through the Iliad and the fucking Green Christmas shit?"

She laughed, Green Christmas shit? She tried to figure out what that one was. There were a few moments of silence as the elevator slowly ascended.

"So, The Horizon…I'll have to check it out."

She sighed, that's fine – because there were several books out there _called_ 'The Horizon,' and that was fine with her. Surely one of them was just a sci-fi book and he could get lost in some stupid crap like that all he wanted. That was just fine. You know, one of those stupid ones where an alien race tries to destroy the world – sans sex-drug intoxication.

The elevator slowed and chimed. They walked down the hallway together. Just before reaching the classroom she had a brilliant realization; she had to pee.

"I'll see you in class," she said as she ducked into the bathroom. Only after using the facilities did she hope and pray he wasn't outside waiting for her, because that would be humiliating.

Peeking carefully out the door she breathed a huge sigh of relief when he wasn't there. The hall was only occupied by other random students making their way to class. A moment later she was slipping into class and eyed him sitting next to her usual seat. God, a book was on the seat, he saved it for her. _Ugh_. She slunk into a chair in the back. Unable to see the blackboard from there, but at that moment she didn't give a single shit.

She absently doodled more in her book rather than tuning in and taking notes. She skipped out of class early, too, all to avoid Mr. Sizzles.

~x~X~x~

The next day she was so relieved to be away from Mr. Sizzles. Apparently, they didn't have too many classes together. However, she wasn't comfortable enough yet to get back into her reading routine. She tried, she really did, but Artie's awkward evening with Mallory as she talked him to a bone shattering orgasm would have to wait. Her nerves were still shot. As she wafted through campus, and drifted in her classes, she couldn't help but wonder who knew of her video, and what they were saying about her behind her back. Thankfully, no one approached her.

She just sort of wasted time awkwardly with doodles and excessive note taking.

Wednesday, however, she was gripped with intense nervousness and plotted to be, in fact, quite late to class. **Late** meant no Sizzling conversations. She couldn't bail on class entirely, but she could avoid him entirely, indeed she could.

When she bounded up the stairs, and rounded the corner, she came to a halt. Guess Who was leaning up against the railing.

_Shit._ What were the odds?

"Class is canceled," he said with a smile as he stood up straight, slipping one hand into his coat pocket. A cellphone clutched in the other. She couldn't help but think how lovely his smile was. So – debonair.

Bella almost laughed at the thought, but managed to keep a straight face. She turned to head back down the sloping walkway and stiffened at the sound of his hurried footsteps coming up behind her. Gritting her teeth, she was overcome with annoyance: he had ruined her indulgence, she was feeling deprived, and he had the nerve to practically stalk her?

"What do you want from me?" she hissed. All she wanted to do was pick up where she left off and indulge in private silence. Now she couldn't. She felt like a drunk without booze - withdraw.

"Just to talk…I'm sorry…" He stopped walking, "…I get it."

The tone in his voice sounded so defeated she actually felt bad for him. Yes, he really was just wanting to talk. He didn't know that what he was trying to talk about was so scandalous she always guarded it like the dirty little secret it was.

That wasn't his fault, and she was being a bitch.

She took a few more steps while she thought this over. Sighing, she stopped, turned around, daring to make eye contact.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm just. You know, sorry." She shrugged. His eyes lit up – _man_ he was adorable.

The smile stayed on his face as he took a few steps towards her and then held out his hand. She looked at it like it was a foreign object or something. She had to touch him? Like, a touch involving movement? Shaking hands? Skin? Her face erupted into flames as she reached out her hand, realizing how sweaty and frigid her palms were. His hands were rugged, but not too rough. Firm, but not too solid.

God, he had sexy hands. Warm, inviting, sexy hands.

She suddenly realized she was slack jawed like a freaking moron and instantly snapped her mouth closed. Looking up, she loosened her hand.

"I'm Edward." He cocked a smile and gave a little huff of a laugh.

"Bella." A slight smile crept across her mouth, she could feel it. Very strange.

They walked together, stirring up awkward first-time conversation about random things. They made their way to the courtyard between the buildings and found a bench to sit on in the sun. Cold, the open yard was populated with only a few students here and there. Hell, it wasn't cold, it was freezing. She was quite warm, though.

She tried hard, very hard, to not think about luscious and sexually restrained Gabe getting a handjob in the bookstore from 'Control.' How he moans out, 'yes…yes…please…please' when his Slutty Little Bookworm for a boss offers one.

Or Trent Reznor whispering 'A thousand lips, a thousand tongues…I want to do terrible things to you…' low in her ear when she turned up her music loud at night. His voice, and the volume, sending shivers down her spine as if he was right there in the room with her.

No, she tried very hard not to think about any of that while they sat in the courtyard and talked about things related to school. Assignments, Professors, Essays, Stuff. She couldn't shake it, though, while staring at him, his eyes and his smile, she started thinking of him – tying her up. Of him – spanking her pink behind. Of him – finger banging her in the front seat of a car.

His arms - she wondered about his arms. Were they muscular, and if so, how much? What if he was a bodybuilder, or a lean and trim fitness guru under all that warm, winter clothing?

Bella was so lost in her thoughts she tuned him out entirely, that creamy voice of his that she just wanted to sort of spread all over herself. Leaning forward, with one hand propped under her chin, sort of sideways to him, she let her eyes settle on his crotch. Then started to imagine what her lips would do if she could just get to it. Was he big or really big? That low tremor in his voice made her think he was definitely on the upper end of the scale.

Realizing what she was doing, she jerked her eyes up as her skin burned away again. She was being a complete sex-deprived fuck freak. When her eyes flashed up and met his something in his look made her tune in to what he was saying.

"…so I didn't think that was the book you were talking about. No, I did find it, though. The Captain's name was Quade…"

_Oh Fuck_.

Her ears were ringing, she didn't hear him say the rest, but she watched him say it. She read his lips, "…and the ship's name was The Horizon, right." Suddenly, she went still, frigid-corpse still. All the color drained from her skin.

_He knows._

Yep, he knew what she'd been reading because he was a clever, smart, little bastard and he figured it out. She said too much. There apparently weren't very many sci-fi books about two people trapped on a ship in space.

_Fuck._ Because that's what she was - she was fucked.

He smirked an impishly evil, sideways grin. That smile was, oddly, some sort of a turn on.

She should have thought of a better book or just lied entirely. If he was an old crone in the supermarket she would have said, "The Story of English in 100 Words." She's read that book, and no one else ever gives a damn about etymology. Bella does. In fact, she's read a lot of etymology books and can bore someone to death with facts about 'street' and 'mead.'

She screwed herself. She was so frazzled, preoccupied, and wrapped up in the situation that she told him the title of one of her favorite books. It was just a matter of doing a Google search and reading some summaries to figure out just what the hell was taking up all the space on her stupid cellphone.

She sat stone still while her breath slowly worked in and out of her lungs, the bitter cold turned their heated breath into vapor. She was locked into his eyes as this realization fully sunk in. Her mind began to wrap itself around the fact that her dirty, little secret wasn't such a dirty, little secret anymore.

Her eyes dropped from his down to those tasty, slick lips of his. He smiled a sexy, mischievous grin as if he was reading her mind and knew exactly what she was thinking. He wasn't talking, anymore. No, he was waiting for her to do something?

Entirely irresistible: that stubble on his chin, the lines of his neck.

Flinging herself at him desperately didn't catch him off guard at all. He was more than willing to go from introductions one day to having the most intense and passionate make out session the next. In public. In the cold. On a random bench. At campus.

She didn't care, she wasn't even thinking. Hormones were suddenly in overdrive. and instead. frantically laced her needy fingers through his hair, crushing him closer to her, kissing passionately. Straight to open mouth, frantic tongue kissing. Nothing smooth or sensual.

Rough and needy.

Pathetically desperate, really, seeing as how it had been years since she was last able to touch someone else like this. Like she was deprived in more ways than one and needing it to survive all of a sudden. He kissed her with fleshy, soft lips, but with firm intensity. He tasted like cinnamon, _fuck_, he tasted good.

Edward was a wicked, sexy, sizzling piece of fucking candy on her tongue.

He leaned into her and moaned a deep, gritty, throaty moan that made her shiver as he wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her up onto his lap. Her legs folded onto the bench at either side of his thighs with the rough grip of blue jean to blue jean.

She could feel his heat soaking through her pants. God, she wanted the wintry barriers to be gone. Silently begging for him to rip her clothes off and fuck up into her.

His fingers were ice cold on her flesh, but _hell,_ they were on the flesh of her back. His fingertips dug into her skin, pawing at her. She started bucking her hips into a driving, deep grind, making contact and feeling his hard cock through the layers of jean and underwear. The fabric of their coats slipped and rubbed together with pitched tenors of leather and nylon.

She worked her hands between her chest and his and made to unzip her coat as he worked a hand down under the fabric of her waistband and tried to grab at her ass. She groaned, a deep, desperate sound of pure pleasure.

After getting her coat undone she went for his, their lips still grinding together with their intense rhythm. Being in the courtyard on school grounds and in public was quite forgotten. The cold was entirely other. She needed to get to him and this spot would have to do. Logistics didn't matter. She was blinded by her sudden lust for him, stupefied into this raging frenzy.

The frantic pulse of his kissing slowed, dragging her back to reality just a bit. She felt deprived but definitely not embarrassed. She suddenly could feel the intense hammering of their heartbeats and the heat of his quick, shallow breaths on her cheek. Her chin and cheek stung from where his bearded stubble had rubbed it raw.

Eventually they stopped kissing and just rested forehead to forehead as their pulses and breathing returned to normal. They were in public, she couldn't do this, not here.

"Well-"

"In the woods…just over there." She motioned to the far corner of the school grounds where the nicely landscaped hillside gave way to trees. Need for him was now thrumming under her skin – she knew, now, that there'd be no relief from it. This is how she was different from all the others.

He pulled back from her and gave a look of mild shock or maybe near disgust at the suggestion.

"Why not?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow and giving a crooked smile. She should feel shame, but all she felt was the intensity of needing a good orgasm, preferably from him since he started all this mess.

"Ah, Bella…Maybe we should wait?" He said with a 'well duh' look on his face; wide eyed with raised eyebrows.

"What for?" Desperation leeched into her words. "I want to. You want to. Why not?" She tried to will him into compliance with her eyes. "I go around with sex on my mind all the time. Honestly, why not?" She grinned huge.

It made him laugh at her desperation. "You really want to?"

"Edward, I haven't fucked in years. I'm not the kind of person who can turn it off once it's been turned on."

His face went blank.

It was already driving her to distraction. She started to consider masturbating right there using him as a sex toy. She laughed uninhibited, and resumed her slow hip-rhythm to grind herself against him.

His eyes widened with shock.

She pecked him on the cheek. "I guess I should have stayed my ass on the seat, hunh?"

The reality of how much she thought of fucking settled in. This is why she avoided guys, she's was a freak. Only the creeps and losers wanted to fuck as much as she did. She had yet to meet someone just as eager and willing. This is why she buried her face in porn on paper. It was easier to live in her funny, erotic novels and pleasure herself at night than rope someone else into her crazed, insatiable shit.

Before he could reject her entirely for her freakish nature she said, "Sorry," as she used his shoulders to quickly peel herself off of his lap. Flushing, she felt frustrated. "I haven't figured out how to cap it off. I always wondered how others can manage." She sat down, looking away from him, considering where she could go to get away and try to alleviate her own tension. "I just avoided it altogether." _Quite successfully, too, until he came along._

His silence made her feel rather gross about it, now. Her body still burning from the intensity of their kiss. The constant thread of sex ram in the back of her mind like a current she couldn't shut off, even when she wanted to. Getting lost in a world of written erotica was definitely preferable because there wasn't someone else's feelings to consider. Logistics didn't matter.

"No, it's ok, really…we were both…you know…." He snaked one hand around her waist.

He knew, now, that she wasn't normal. Everyone _else_ was normal. Everyone _else_ liked sex but weren't obsessed with it.

…And this was why she couldn't get involved with the nice guys. She crossed her arms, feeling disgusted with herself and dejected.


	2. Chapter 2: Madam Zombie

**[Chapter updated 7/1/2013]**

* * *

**Jezabella – Chapter Two – Madam Zombie**

Between hastily scratched out lines on her notebook paper, she kept peeking at the time. It was 2:23. She hadn't slept in over 30 hours. Jittery and unhinged were the words of the day. Class droned on - 2:24.

Professor Mia preached reverently about Seamounts, Granite and Hot Spots. While checking for text messages that never came - 2:26 – and struggling to scratch out semi-decipherable dribble for notes, she was slowly losing her mind.

Class sucked. She couldn't even remember how she got there, all she knew was that she couldn't stop the frantic jittering of her foot and wanted to gnaw straight through her steel pen. Leg muscles ached from the abuse, but she couldn't stop. Pent up frustrations had to be vented somewhere, and down the leg of her well-loved jeans and to her boot was all she could do.

Everything seemed so twisted, more than usual. Seamounts sounded lusty, Granite sounded downright carnal. All the talk of pressure and inches.

Hot spots.

She almost groaned out loud when she started thinking about hot spots. It all came back to Edward. His firm, warm hands, the sensual hunger of his kiss. That _taste_. The feel of his tongue on her tongue. The sting of her chin from his stubble as the bitter cold ran over it. That look in his eyes when he let her know that he had figured it out. A thrilled, wide-eye, mischievous glint. His burning eyes that made her think of everything hot and dangerous to touch. Lava and Friction.

That clever bastard and his use of the internet.

She was slowly being tortured.

After she fled from the courtyard, his warm inviting lap, and that look of derision, she felt chastened by his rejection. Outright horrified at her sudden spike - whorish. Now all that she felt was extreme deprivation.

She didn't spare herself any misery by refusing to alleviate her tension. _No,_ she commanded herself while trying to master her raging, unsatisfied libido. She actually began to devise a rulebook for conduct: **Bella Swan's Rules of Suppression**

**Rule Number One:** Absolutely **no** masturbating in the shower with thoughts of Mr. Sizzles._ That_ would edge on unwholesome perversion, insane. He was obviously not interested in sex with her.

Of course, once IN the shower, she couldn't resist herself, but she swore that the one time would be it.

Such a bad little liar.

It wasn't without guilt and regret, though. She couldn't fantasize about an unwilling partner because that's tantamount to force - and well - that just wasn't her style. She preferred her partners to be _willing_. Was he? She couldn't decide. It was called con_SENSUAL_ for a reason and he most certainly did not consent.

Scrubbing her face with her hands woke her up a little. A few more days and the painful ache would relent, and with it, her crazed thoughts. Once she was finally able to sleep she'd get the fuck over it, guaranteed.

In fact, to prove to herself that she was not insane, she considered getting off to the imagery of Hellboy or The Beast in Edward's place just to throw him out of her mind - Cause Perlman was just hot like that. What would Perlman say to that? If she fantasized about Hellboy and that powerful whammer of his, hmm?

When that thought set into her mind she immediately started entertaining freak fantasies of Edward and Red. That one made her blush as she tromped through campus when Physical Geography class finally ended.

Back in her apartment, she sat tense on her couch. No reclining with a cup of coffee and relaxing to the adorableness that was Cameron from 'Telling Tales.' Bella did smile a little, though, while staring blankly at the TV, hunched in on herself. Legs tight, elbows propped on knees, and fingers steepled to her chin, she relived her favorite written moments in her mind.

Bella smiled cheekily when thinking about how Cameron tore through his binds to voraciously take Allie. Shocked, Wade and Kitty both looked on and groaned out '_fuuuck_' – entirely thrown by his sexual fury. Cameron handled her so roughly that Allie was certain to have bruises, and loved every minute of it. That scene always thrilled Bella.

Now why couldn't she find a guy that was just _that_ insatiable? Every attempt at a relationship had left her feeling entirely fucked up, but reassured she was pretty. With, "You're beautiful … I do like it with you … but it's just too much for me to keep up with … But you're great!" A total 'Tony the Tiger' sendoff. Which really felt like a, "you're too whorish," accusation – which is exactly what she didn't want, ever. There was a fine line between being sexually vivacious, and whorish.

Once that bitter filth snuck into her thoughts, she cranked the volume on the TV and went about prepping a bowl of cereal. Her nagging inner monologue was drowned out as Hellboy valiantly battled off the legions of the Golden Army.

Red was hot when he smoked a cigar, that was for sure. The whole smoking thing, Bella couldn't get enough of that. Numerous times she was disappointed as more and more guys seemed to opt out. Since when did men care about their health? Well, it's not like she was going to be putting out any day soon so she really shouldn't care. She was a loner and loners did things **alone**. Like masturbating, that's an idyllic loner thing to do.

Irritated, she created **Rule Number 2:** None of that self-service hanky-panky right now. As if the sexual deprivation hadn't already reached a miserable high.

Her roommates would hear her, after all, and they'd put two and two together, and everyone would know. So far no one knew about her dirty little secret. So far she was just a stuffy, little word-loving book-worm.

Well – now _he_ knew.

Damn that bastard.

She scowled at Red as he yelled out 'open wide' and shot a mechanical freak of a soldier in the head. He was brilliantly red, like a cherry dipped demon. What she thought she was going to turn into amid her mortifications – stained skin the color of sin.

Then the thought occurred to her that, up to this point, no one had asked her about them two making out like feral rabbits in the courtyard. Word spread about her little trashy video - she already had to ignore a few inquiring minds - yet nothing about the make-out session of humiliation. "_In the woods?"_ She couldn't believe she even thought of it or had the moxie to say it out loud.

Well, yes she could, she probably considered every possible sexual urge satisfying scenario that could occur on the school grounds. Only, many required a strange event of campus depopulation or public displays of fuckery. Her skin crawled in an invitingly tense sort of way, her jaw and cheeks tightened with a pain akin to sucking on citrus. A sour tang. Did anyone on campus ask Edward? What did he say?

Oh God, what did _he _say?

Did he _tell_ someone?

She groaned with frustration and thunked her bowl of soggy cereal down to the coffee table, watching the murky milk as it splashed to the glass. Immediately, lewd thoughts of what it looked like came to her mind. Rolling her eyes at her own twisted nature, she scooped up her phone and slipped it into her pocket.

Couch leather, brittle and cracked, protested as she stood. Crumbs fell of her lap onto the floor, she scowled down at the mess. Not only did she have a dirty mind, but she was just fine with living like a pig all of a sudden. She resisted the urge to sniff the air and take in how bad it really was. Always hoping someone else would clean it up, apparently the feeling was all mutual.

One more melodramatic eye-roll to the ceiling and then a sag of her shoulders. Getting out was on the list of things to suddenly do, never mind sitting in here and studying.

Studying Red's devilish ass and rock hard…

Hands.

The apartment place was oppressive with everything old, musty and not so gently used. Studying, real studying, would have to wait. It was cold and dark outside, regardless, she was going to have to freeze herself to death to douse the nipping, hormonal flames

_Jesus – nipping, hunh_? She sighed, exasperated with her constantly sidetracked mind.

No fine art reading, today.

She sniffed herself – pit check - smelled tolerable. It's not like she was going to be getting close enough to someone to offend, anyway. Just as she was dawning her coat and walking out the front door, she thought better of it, maybe she would.

_Atta girl_! Ever so optimistic.

It would be horrid to let some body-funk get in the way of a potential orgasm. In her room she pulled off one ratted T, anointed with deodorant, then tossed on another torn top. A quick glance in the mirror provided evidence that she had not slept well. Isabella was well on her way to becoming a zombie; the transformation was nearly complete.

Not a very attractive one, though, no sensual Madam Zombie this week.

Walking. No – lumbering rudely in the most insolent manor – through campus at night was downright creepy. Frigidly creepy, if there is such a thing. All that was missing was the thick fog and Nicole Kidman. She kept wondering which dorm was Edward's, or if he had an apartment with roommates like she did. Were they handsome like he was?

_Agh!_

That thrumming need was still under her skin, successfully depriving her of sleep and concentration. If another dreadfully handsome guy came up to her and said so much as, "Hi Bella," she'd pounce, and probably be sent straight to jail. One of those freakish moments where, "I'm sorry, officer, I don't know what came over me!" just wasn't going to cut it. Unless…

No.

She crossed to the other side of the street when she saw a group of guys coming her way. Talking, laughing. Tempting.

Scuffling down the sidewalk, through pools of light, she thought about how she'd give anything right now to just switch it off and be normal. Normal people did not think about it this much. Well, maybe they thought about it some, but it definitely didn't drive them to constant distraction. That much she knew.

Of course, after considering that, she thought of the treasure trove called her Fine Art Stash and thought back to Mallory and Artie. If everything hadn't come undone, she would have read at least two more books since then. Maybe chancing a new author, the occasional venture. After all, she stumbled upon Stein when she was flat broke and couldn't afford to pay for books. Blind and off the bat was underrated. Paid for books were a gamble, they often meant you were stuck spending money on something that could likely be quite horrid.

It's hard to ruin porn on paper but, damn, if some people didn't make a valiant effort. The freebies, however, at least were free. That's exactly how she found Stein.

That was either here nor there. She had a more pressing issue to deal with, aside from her stirred and neglected libido.

Edward. What the hell?

How on earth had he managed to figure it out? Ok, so that wasn't rocket science, she already knew. It was obvious that the Captain's name gave it away. She bristled with irritation, but it was too late. Several times she wanted to Google 'The Horizon – Captain Quade' to see how quick it would come up, but declined. Overall - did he _tell_ anyone? Over the last two days; every time she started to worry her nails over that, she abandoned it. She was just feeding her paranoia with something she couldn't control. What's done was done.

Her mind then wandered around to how Edward had paid so much attention to her. Enough to actually figure out she read smut from one little give in one little conversation. Yet she didn't know anything about him even though they sat and talked for quite some time.

She scrunched her forehead with a mighty effort to recall something about him. They talked about teachers and classes, but all she knew is that he was in two of hers, and she loathed him for it. In fact, that was the longest conversation she had with someone. Albeit, it was one sided. She spent most of that time seated and gawking at his crotch, trying to figure out what size-category he was in.

She shuddered and shrugged down inside her coat even more, wishing that she had snagged a scarf out of the basket. Maybe he already knew ahead of time and just needed final confirmation? She tried to think back through the first few weeks of the semester, pondering over the possibility of having left her cell unattended. No, though, that would never happen. The thing was practically glued to her ass-cheek - right where Edward had slid his fingers. She shivered as she thought of that. He had those sexy fingers on her skin.

Damnit, he just had to say no to her offer for a good fuck. He had one of those moments of decency and all that shit. She stomped her feet louder in protest.

Her brow was scrunched in deep thought, still trying to remember which erotica started with a walk in the dark. There was one, but she couldn't dredge up the details…some girl wanders into a club after a car accident…

Met a dominant…Master X?

She sighed in frustration. Now she had two irritations: that elusive story, and the sharp tingling urge that was just under her flesh. No – three: story, tingle, Edward.

After thoroughly pissing herself off during the walk that was supposed to be a distraction, she finally headed back. Mid-turn to head back she slipped on a patch of ice, her foot skidding out from underneath almost sending her flat to the ground.

Sprain free, she managed to get back to the shack called home. She tossed her coat on the couch, where it promptly slipped off into a heap on the floor.

She snarled, "Fucker," as if it could hear her, and took a peek at her phone. Classes would start in a few hours. Another night of no sleep.

None.

Dread crept in, it was Friday, and soon she'd have to go to class. All that was missing was the 13th and a full moon.

No – Class-_es_!

_Two_ – with him. It would be pure torture. She huffed when she thought about Mr. Sizzles and his captivating eyes. Then groaned when she thought about how warm he was against her. _God_, he tasted so good. Like a fireball candy: semi-rough after hours of sucking on it, but tangy and cinnamon and sweet and harsh.

Irritation flared again. She couldn't listen to music, that made it all worse. Everything was tainted, now. Not just her reading, but everything else. She was strung so tight she was going atomic. She had hours of pure torture to get through until class began.

Hours that were to be spent playing Unreal Tournament, she used to be really good at the game. Self-inflicted loneness during high school excelled her to Godlike status. Once she found erotica she sunk herself into it and lost interest in the game entirely.

After starting up the game, she had to ditch her old profile preference in order to play it again. She was no longer interested in hearing the sexy announcer orgasmically screaming out 'Flack Monkey' and 'Unstoppable.' On top of that, she had to go all the way to the alien players to get into the fight – Mr. Crow was too damn lush.

Ironic – how her desire to just not be with any random jackass all for the sake of a hot fuck always drove her back to the same things: erotica and video games. She wanted Edward.

Well – maybe ironic wasn't the right word. Maybe it was aptly classified as 'disgustingly annoying.'

Viciously intent on trumping her opponent in Torkenstein, her eyes narrowed as she hunched over the desk. Every time she'd step out of the submerged tunnel underneath the castle wall after retrieving the flak cannon, she'd get her head blown off. She was beyond pissed. Which time was this, the seventh game, the seventeeth? Over and over she went after the same map, trying to trump it in a Deathmatch.

"Fuckhead, die goddamnit!" Her fingers savagely trounced on the keys. Lewd thoughts of clicking the mouse had left her mind an hour ago.

"A little pissed today?"

She jumped in her seat with the sudden intrusion into her tense bubble of vengeful death.

"You missed class over a game," Jessica pointed out, not sparing the judgment.

Bella immediately stopped playing, smacked her hand to her forehead, and sagged into her seat. That was one absence not intended.

"You reek, you need to shower before your class."

Bella let her head loll to the side – _Jessica, with all her pretty togetherness who _always had the guys but rarely put out before they got tired of her ditsy attitude issues. She wasn't a horrid roommate, just a self-centered roommate.

A smile crept over Bella's face as she looked at Jessica's fur lined boots, leggings and a fluffy blousy thing. _So_ Jessica. To some, she looked awesomely together. To Bella, she just looked silly.

"What's funny?" Jessica asked with a huffy sneer on her lips.

_You look like a slut – but don't put out like one._

"I reek?"

Jessica just crinkled her nose, nodded, and walked off.

No wonder why the guys always bailed on Jessica, she gave off mixed signals. Look, but don't touch. If Jessica managed to attract a single decent guy maybe Bella would consider being the fallback friend there to alleviate his misery.

Her hand worried her forehead more vigorously. No, she didn't need to start thinking like that. That's how she ended up alone, awake for days, and yelling at a computer game telling it to go to hell.

Sighing in resignation, she went to take a shower in order to head to class…to go see Edward. Suddenly, Rule of Suppression Number One sounded like pure torture. She probably shouldn't see him when all she felt was raw, unhinged, lustful need.

Just like that, her mind was back in the gutter. No, the trench.

Gutter suggested a shallow depth, likely escapable. A trench was vast, deep, and definitely what she was stuck in.

So much for the game as a distraction – at least it passed the time.

Walking to class she felt naked without her book in her hand. No icy fingers tapping the edge of the screen to advance to the next page. Peripheral vision no longer engaged only as much as necessary to avoid things like water fountains and potholes.

Day two without reading was awkward. She didn't know what to do. While walking, she looked around at the cars in the lots, puffs of exhaust, groups of friends bundled up and laughing while hurrying into classes. Sunlight glinted off the glazed windows of buildings. Trees towered overhead casting frigid shadows. Everyone hung to the sunlight, avoiding salted paths with patches of hazardous ice and bitter shadow.

Campus was rather pretty in the winter.

No sign of Mr. Sizzles.

She couldn't push out of her mind the sense of dread - Seeing Mr. Sizzles. Would he be waiting? Would he try to say hi? She hadn't seen him on campus, which was a high concern of hers. She made sure to take note of other students and he wasn't in any of her other classes. Which was something she was thankful for, because that would be too much. Much too much.

She felt an odd unease, an unsettling sense, nerves and something else. Scowling, she tried to sort it out and make sense of her many troubled thoughts and feelings. This was something that hadn't happened in a long time. In fact, never happened. She never had a guy show some sort of interest in her, and then pounced on him like a little minx, only for him to turn down her advances.

No, this was an absolute first and it left her feeling off balance. Other than entirely unsatisfied and needing it more now than ever before, it felt foreign.

Out of place.

If he talked to her what would she do?

Bella hadn't felt a sense of embarrassment or shame for a while, and it didn't come back until she was closer to the towering skyscraper of odd design. Its strange, physical features mirrored her unease, so odd and out of place. It rose into the sky like some strange Bauhaus meets Escher concept.

As the building began to grow in size with each step she took toward it, she peered up to the fifth floor. Maybe it was the 4th floor, could be the 6th, with the slanting twist of the wrapping walkway it was hard to tell. Was he up there? Was he looking for her? She shuddered with a mix of dread and excitement, and then worried her lip with her pearly whites.

Oh, could he see her walking?

She flushed scarlet and looked back down to the ground, having shown too much eagerness already. Then, she stayed scarlet when she thought about what kind of eagerness it was and how it all started, with a morning and a simple question about what she was reading.

Unlike Captain Quade, there was no need for drug induced sexual urges here, Bella was charged enough for two.

Half way up the series of winding ramps and stairs she started to sweat, and it wasn't from the physical effort, that was sure. The closer she got to floor five the more tense her muscles felt. Like they were cramping up, waiting to release untold amounts of energy.

Bella started worrying her fingernails – not biting, but slicking them across her teeth. She stopped as she realized it was just making that thrumming, tense energy under her skin electrify in her fingertips. Rule Number One sucked.

As she walked higher up, her breathing sped with a more erratic rhythm, streaming hot passed her lips. She wasn't even going to make it into class if she kept this up, she'd pass out.

No, can't have that. That was the last thing on earth that should happen right now, if she passed out surely he would be right there to scoop her up. Bella scolded herself for not staying at home. White Knighting was not permitted.

Just before the final corner, she stopped walking. Her boots felt like lead clogs on her feet. _Pretend, _she coached herself, _pretend you are just a normal person and not a fucking freak._ After a few deep breaths, she repeated this new resolve over and over, a new mantra. She uncrossed her arms and sunk her hands down into her pockets.

_What would Ms. Harding do?_ Bella cleared her throat and sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to take in the musk of the concrete, the faint smell of exhaust, and the cold, frozen decay of winter. Slowly, she cleared her head.

With small steps, she went to peek around the corner, though it made her feel like she was a kid sneaking up to steal candy in the middle of the night. She felt certain that he'd be there. If he was, then maybe she could just stay put and not go around the corner? If he was there then she'd wait for him to go into class, first. If she always went to class after he did then she'd never have to talk to him.

Perfect.

That's not what she wanted, though, was it? No, she did want to talk to him, to get him to finish what he started, at least. Deep underneath all that unease and uncertainty, she just wanted to talk to him.

And, damnit, that is exactly what she was going to do.

Dropping her pack, she placed her palms flat to the wall so she could still the shaking of her hands. Slowly, she peered around the corner.

No Mr. Sizzles.

Several students lingered outside the classroom doors, but no Mr. Sizzles.

She slunk back, leaned up against the wall, dropped her head back and clenched her eyes closed as relief washed over her. The shaking of her fingers slowed with each relaxed breath she let out. With one hand to her heart, she tried to control its racing beat with her touch.

"You ok?"

She yelped. Her neck tensed as her eyes popped open wide. A sharp tang ran down from her jaw to her feet and made her shudder violently. Tears pricked her eyes from the scare. Her tongue curled with a sour taste.

"What the fuck, _Edward_?" She scowled at him, clenching her jaw to fight back the quiver she felt in her lips.

"Sorry…didn't mean to scare you." He smiled apologetically, chaste and contrite. His eyes lit up in amusement as a faint smile shifted on his lips.

His plump, thick, full lips.

She groaned inside: days of no sleep, being strung tight, and Rule Number One and Two proved all very, very, very bad for her raging, unsatisfied libido.

Eyes wide, the physical urge to tackle him and grope his ass crashed over her like a wave. All consuming, he was scandalous.

He didn't even know how scandalous he was. He might as well have been standing there entirely naked like a statue of David.

Just as she started to imagine what he'd look like being exactly that - thankfully - someone walked up the ramp and passed between them. The break in her vision was just long enough to realize she had to find some sense of composure.

Quickly, Bella adverted her eyes down the ramp and off in the distance. It was nearly impossible for her to look at him without going feral. She wouldn't put it past herself to really claw onto his back and hump his hip.

"Class is about to start."

_Oh_, That syrupy, sickly-sweet voice of his. Her mouth watered at the memory of cinnamon. Suddenly, she realized she still had one hand to her chest like a vexed maiden in one of those ridiculous silent films. It was a little too close to her own tits. She dropped it immediately and cleared her throat, willing some sense of decency to come around. The slick of her coat was the only sound bouncing off the walls.

"Yeah." She risked another look at him, tried to meet his eyes with a polite smile, but landed her sight on his shoulder instead. Anything north of his shoulders was far too hypnotizing.

Bella pried herself away from the wall as he took a few steps toward her, and looked around nervously, anywhere but him. Anywhere but his black leather stompers, those dark wash jeans, his slick, black winter coat and how it set off his pale skin: dark on light. She tried to ignore how the lack of sunlight muted the tones of his hair but made him no less appealing. Overcast days set him off quite nicely.

She was so determined not to think about any of that but failed miserably.

He scooped up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. The walk together down the concrete corridor was practice for staying on her feet, walking straight, no tripping. Struggling not to think of how he felt under her when she was…

"Did you study for the test?"

_Oh shit._

"No, I forgot about it." Dread swept over her.

He huffed an airy laugh through his nose.

"I've had an…off…week." Understatement. After all, she is a filthy little liar.

"Sorry. I think that's my fault." The edge of regret in his voice suddenly doused her with guilt.

"No, it's not your fault. It's just…me." Inside, she laughed at herself for giving the, "It's not you, it's me," speech that she hated so much.

He stopped short of the class door, turned to face her. "Bella?"

Her body tensed. His voice. Her name. Awareness of every inch of him permeated through the layers of embarrassment. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Nope, turning her head slightly in his direction was all she was going to give.

"I didn't mean to…you know…embarrass you. It was just that-"

"No. Don't," harshly, her words spilled out in a gritty rush, "I know what you're going to go into and I can't listen to it…It's just…Okay?" She was flustered. It would be cute, if she was a Jessica.

He shifted on his feet, one hand slipped into his jacket pocket, but said nothing.

They stood there. Awkward silence and tension hung in the air.

When he stepped forward to open the door for her she let out a shaky breath. Her chest hurt from holding it in for so long. With that one simple gesture her heart melted a little, and of course she couldn't help but wonder what he looked like without the jacket on.

She did remember her manners, though, and smiled at him uneasily as she went in. With great effort, she managed too not get wrapped up in thoughts about his lips and tongue as he smiled back…or to think of his arm extended out, firm fingers gripping the edge of the door, tendons and muscles flexing, and his closeness to her as he followed her in.

The class was half-full and smelled faintly of permanent marker and disinfectant. She stepped around a backpack or two on her way to her usual seat. No tripping - No White Knighting opportunities would be provided. This could be Rule Number Three. Or was that really actually Number One? He sat next to her.

She tensed for a moment, almost frozen, but not like the last time she sat here. The memories of class degradation swept over her, scowling she looking around, having to satisfy her own curiosity. Her eyes sort of glazed over him like he was a window. No one was paying any attention to her, apparently it wasn't that big of a deal.

Taking a breath, she relaxed a little, Unlike last time, the idea of keeping her coat on was uncomfortable. She quickly undid the zipper, trying so hard not to think back to the other day, and slipped it off her shoulders. It bunched up in the seat behind her.

Mr. Sizzles was _right_ there. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, though. She just hoped that her long hair falling down her back was enough to hide the horrid site of her bra's back strap digging into her flesh. Maybe he wouldn't see that. Maybe it wasn't that obvious. Not that there was much extra flesh, seeing as how she was on the thin side, but one can never be too sure about these things.

Raising her arms a little, awkwardly, she assessed her current outfit: she had no memory of changing out of her ratted clothes from earlier. Did she shower? Not bad, just some regular old jeans and a green fitted ribbed sweater that belled out a little around her hands. What she always considered her 'Dexter' top.

Because suddenly looks mattered to one Ms. Bella Swan.

Snorting quietly to herself, she got a kick out of how she actually gave a shit. Did the Devil just buy a pair of ice skates?

Now what? She slipped her cell out - 12:54. Almost time for class to start but not quite. Never before had she _not_ been reading something. If she read something today what would she be in the mood for? Her finger hovered over the familiar blue-book shortcut on the screen. So many good books right now, so many quirky scenes and intense scenarios: Goblin Kings and Tasty Submissives.

Then she sighed dejectedly as she tossed the phone down onto her desktop, slunk back in her chair, and crossed her arms.

Sulking.

Like a child.

The shock brought on by Mr. Sizzles started to wear off, her nerves began to fray again, skin buzzed just underneath. She crackled and boiled inside, like a tension in her tendons. Energy needing to be released.

Franticly, she channeled it through her leg and into her foot - 12:56. She scowled at the head of the girl in front of her, the one who managed to do the bendy-180 the other day.

"It's no big deal, really," he whispered.

_What the FUCK!_

She shot him a spiteful glare.

He was leaning toward her, closing the vast expanse between them, and smiled.

What was that lean for? Was it meant to be passive and soothing? Whatever it was, it rankled her to no end. He sounded almost like it was a conspiracy. _Their_ dirty, little secret instead of _her_ dirty, little secret.

_Damnit!_ Her dirty, little secret that his shrewd, investigatory nosiness uncovered and fucking _ruined!_

There was no going anywhere with that fact, either. It was like he uttered a rude curse word, "It's no big deal." Like when you say 'vagina' or 'cunt' there's no way to play it off as something else. The words off his tongue were so bold, brazen, and out there. It was more lewd than 'pussy' or even 'slit.'

He was bringing it up, and in front of people. He might as well douse her fire with petrol. In his Sizzling, hot-ass, Edward world that phrase was probably meant to be supportive or comforting.

She tried her best to light him on fire, and not in a sexy way, with her laser beam eyes. Nothing worked. Then he doused her venom when he licked his lips.

He was smiling back at her vicious glare and then he parted his lips ever so, and then darted his tongue absentmindedly across his lower lip. It was like one heat was swapped for another when, immediately after that, he rubbed his lips together to spread the saliva.

Her mouth fell open.

Was he trying to be such a turn on? No, he wasn't. He had no way of knowing just how much of an effect he had on her. Which just made her angry all over again. He didn't sense it, he obviously didn't see it, so she was stuck without any reprieve. Instead, she had this stunningly seductive male absentmindedly wetting his lips, shaking her hand, and spreading his creamy liquid voice all over her cunt.

Bella was drowning in the vivid memory of wanting to fuck him on the bench just outside in the courtyard…That pathetic desperation.

_Agh!_

Class was going to be hell on earth to get through. Our little masochist, though, was most certainly going to get through it without skipping off to the bathroom. She hated herself that much.

There was no way in hell she could put up with this much longer, though. Something was going to have to give and she'd rather it be him – and not her.

Throughout class she was strung tight, just one more little thing was going to make her come undone entirely. She struggled to focus, her eyes constantly wandering across the aisle. The toes of his shoes, how his pant leg just bunched and crumpled over and into his boot, everything caught her attention. She was constantly having to drag her eyes back, back to the pages, back to the test.

Aside the wandering eye condition, she nervously jiggled her leg, rapped her fingers on the desk, gnawed at the pencil, and flicked her teeth with her fingers.

None of it helped. She was just as unhinged, now, as she was before. There was no lessening of her distraught state, no reprieve. Definitely no 'A' for a grade. She plunged from an 'A' student to an 'F' student. 'F' for 'F'ucked in the Head.

_Fucking Great._

She Festooned her test to hurry up – no point in wasting time actually trying to answer questions - and Fled.

Just as she was crossing the courtyard and making her way toward the far road that would eventually end up at her apartment, a thought occurred to her. Well, more like a bitter sentiment. Edward had already ruined her addiction by sucking the secrecy out of it. She wasn't going to let him ruin everything else, too.

That would just be handing over too much. All he did was figure out a single book. Ok, so _maybe_ he deduced that's what she read all the time. Was it really that bad? It had been a few days and he didn't say anything to anyone. In fact, if it did get out, no doubt her roomie would have been the first to hear of it. Jessica's nose was in everything. Edward actually didn't bring it up. He didn't make fun of her for it. Even the comment he made in class was harmless.

There it was, resolve. She was going to get the upper hand on this even if it killed her.

After that, she felt pretty damn good. Giddy, almost, as the thrill of this idea seeded itself. She was going to tackle the problem and alleviate her misery.

* * *

**Quotes and references:**

Nicole Kidman and thick fog – 'The Others.'

**[7/1/2013 - Author's Note - When sitting down to edit this one, I was shocked at how horribly written it was. I'm amazed any of you got through it over the last six months. Thanks for tolerating my poor writing skills. At first I planned on just addressing spelling and grammatical issues, but I realized that even after doing so some of this chapter still made no sense (yes - as in, I had no clue what I was trying to say) so some parts were restructured a bit. In the end, nothing pertaining to the plot or storyline was altered - but maybe it won't give anyone a headache in the future. I did start writing fanfiction to improve my writing skills - so revising and editing my work is just part of that effort.]**


	3. Chapter 3: Pussy Cat

**[Revised on 7/1/2013]**

**Jezabella – Chapter 3 – Pussy Cat**

She laughed to herself a little as she thought of 'Dune,' "…_It is by will alone I set my mind in motion_…." If Ms. Harding could see her now; she'd be damn proud. Well, Bella hoped anyway. That giddiness propelled her forward, across the courtyard and to her next class.

Determined – she was going to _get_ to Edward. There was something there. It might have just been a natural knee jerk response from him perhaps. Maybe it was small. She was going to stroke it, though, and get the most of it. They hadn't been on the verge of copulating carelessly on the bench for no reason. They had been on the verge of copulating carelessly on the bench because there was something he liked.

He approached her – in fact – he had even admitted to having an eye on her for a while. Yes, now she remembered that much. His subtle hinting of interest. Now duly noted. Long enough to be interested and approach her about it. He didn't just approached her, but considered reading a book she was reading. Most people who ask that same daunting question do it purely out of curiosity or for small talk. Very few ever show interest in _reading_ it. He was genuinely curious about her.

Things were looking up. She had something he liked, whatever that might be, she wasn't too sure. There sure as hell was something she liked. Indeed.

The Hesitation? Edward was just being proper – such noble reassurance – and she huffed out a sigh of annoyance at the thought. Yes, he was trying to do the proper thing. Could she really spite him? After all, she just spent a considerable amount of time loathing the fact that she never could snag the good guys.

Maybe the good guys always came with things like 'decency' and 'respect' and 'politeness.' It's not like she had any experience to draw from. If that was the case, she could deal. The whole 'getting to know you before we fuck' thing. Sure, if she knew it was coming, then maybe she could handle it.

It would be a first.

She unwrapped her arms from in front of her chest, no more hiding. That's what her erotica was, hiding. Ok well that's a lie, it was sexually stimulating entertainment. Fine Art Appreciation - that suddenly she was very much in the mood to read. Not now, though, no, now she had a purpose beyond self-centered fulfillment. She had Edward.

Well, not yet, but she would.

Edward. Who had a nice pair of lovely hands. Ten fingers, ten toes, and hormones. Not to forget; one hell of a fine tongue. Lots of fun can be had with tongues, that much is for sure. She shuddered with delight as she made her way across the frigid clearing. This time, she was hopeful that he'd be there.

Be there like a lovable, adorable little puppy that maybe she could adopt and take home. Give him a name.

_Oh_, he already had a name.

Mr. Sizzles.

Mr. Edward Hotfucking Sizzles. She felt herself flare red but didn't care. She'd stay lit up like a Christmas Tree if it would snag him.

Had he been having issues like she was? She hadn't thought of that up until this moment. Maybe he was suffering just as much? Ok, well she fessed that wasn't really likely but he had to have some sort of tension. Right?

Of course he did. He was a guy. He might have been different than some of the other guys she's hooked up with - but what kind of a man gets physical with a minx and doesn't suffer a little for not following through?

_Oh!_ Maybe he was having second thoughts. Or regrets!

_Oh God._ What if he really _did_ read the book?

She gasped out loud with shock at that idea, a hand flew up to her lips while the new possibility sunk in. What if he read it? What if he was into it? Oh, what if he read all those deliciously sinful words. Did he laugh? Did he _get_ why she loves reading it so much? Did he read Mallory's phone-book joke about her stupid clit and laugh his ass off like she always did? Better yet, what kind of a guy _was_ he? Like Mallory's Artie from 'Restraint,' or maybe he wasn't quite as pent up. No, she thought about that and decided she'd have to figure him out, his mystery.

Being Hopeful was a understatement. So wass Giddy.

"_Okay, okay_." She coached herself, took a few deep breaths and tried to smooth away the salacious grin that was now plastered on her face. She couldn't quite manage it.

Mr. Sizzles was sounding tastier and tastier with each step she took and each thought she had. Did he have his own Rules for Suppression like she did? Maybe 'going slooooow' was one of his rules. What did a guy like Mr. Sizzles do? Or not do? Did he have limits and what were they? Cause if he had rules she was going to find them out…and then break them. If he had limits she was going to erode them away. Did he have a shower rule like she did?

Mr. Sizzles. In the shower. Naked. Stroking himself.

Her heart was racing, her skin was tingling all over at the thought. Now that distracting, humming pulse just under her skin had a direction to go in. Rather than trying to dissipate it, she was going to master it.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too hard to pull off?

Wow, now, she was in the trench and not even coming out. No shame and all sorts of puns and innuendos. Was it that much of a shock? Bella thrived off of puns, innuendos and suggestions. Her entire world was submerged in a land of all things erotic.

Except for her real life, but that was going to change.

A wicked smile lit on her lips, she held her eyes on the door of Chaucerbury Hall where her Literature class was - where he was. Now she wanted nothing more than to see what kind of a reaction she could get out of him with a look…a smile. A touch. Could she illicit the same response from him that he always pulled from her? How far would she have to go to get him to come nearly undone by watching her lick her lips like he did to her? Right now she wished she had a lolly.

She was practically running, now, wholly unaware of the weather and the fact that it was raining and she was getting soaked. Backpack bouncing, hair bobbing in the air. Her overactive mind was keeping her quite warm and very well occupied.

Once inside the building she bounded up the main stairs that overlooked the foyer – too impatient to take the elevator. Making her way down the hallways to her class, she slipped out her phone – 20 minutes 'til class started. Would he be there?

With a quick excited step. No. He wasn't there.

Her shoulders slumped.

Of course he wasn't there, she was early. Class wasn't about to start, yet, he was probably in his previous class taking a test! She laughed at herself for that while she slumped against the wall to wait.

Now she was the puppy.

Hmm. Well that's not all that appealing for a female. Rephrasing: She was being the patient little pussy cat. How's that?

18 minutes.

Damn, how long was he going to take on the test?

17 minutes.

Very slow minutes. This was one of those times where there was some sort of time warp issue going on and one minute really seemed like ten.

She shrugged off her pack and slid down to the floor. Legs extended straight out like living road bumps. The idea of reading to pass the time while she waited became more appealing. It had been a while, maybe she could jump to a different book and forgo the rest of 'Restraint.'

She started humming quietly, a lyricless ditty from some movie she saw recently.

16 minutes.

She started jiggling her feet to the tune, then twiddling her thumbs.

15 minutes.

What came next, dancing? How desperate was he to wait for her like this? Because she had never felt so needy, antsy, and determined in all her life. _Fuck it!_ She unlocked her phone to sink herself into a book, anything. Pass the time. Idle time passage sucked without reading.

What to read, though? With her lengthy list of available books that went on forever, she couldn't figure it out. There were a few non-erotica pieces, some classics, some school this and that's. None of that seemed remotely interesting.

Staring at the little thumbnails of muscled men – their idyllic beauty. Most had the classic 'manly men with manes of masculine hair and many hours spent at the menagerie with the mighty tigresses' look. Washboard Abs and Adonic Belts. It was like sin city on her cellphone. Her own little peep show. She giggled as she scrolled through the endless line.

Variety.

Men in loincloths. Men in beds. Men in chains. Men in hot tubs. Men in uniform. Men in – _what? _She peered close at one trying to gleam details. Ah! Man behind a shower curtain. She laughed out loud at her photography deciphering skills.

Of course, reality check. Most men don't look like that but who gives a shit! It's fiction for a reason.

Did Edward look like that? Or was he one of those lean, skinny guys with minimal muscle mass and definition? She closed her eyes and tried to replay what she'd seen of him – damn the winter! Boots, pants, and fucking coats. Didn't he ever take it off? Her brief make out session days ago didn't help, either. How on earth was it even possible to get so wrapped around someone and not know what their body felt like? This was cruel, she felt deprived.

Various images of Edward's possible physique came and went. So did thoughts of how he'd go about taking off all those wintry warm layers. All a reminder that there was much more to figure out. Mr. Sizzle Stripping?

Ignoring her body's aching reaction she turned back to scrolling – more fine ass artwork oodling.

The hall slowly filled with students. The hovered around, chatting and passing time as they waited for the next class to start. Where _was_ he? Now she was getting anxious.

Bella clicked opened a random book without looking at what it was, but she couldn't focus. With a sigh, she tuned into the noises in the hallway, eyeing shoes – looking for boots or his long, strong, casual stride. Something – _anything._

Frustration grew. Funny how suddenly him not being around was under her skin. Quite the 180, all from her walking epiphany.

'The Shadowlands!' That's the book; with Master Z, not X. Master Z and whatever the girl's name was. She had a car accident in the rain, and came across Club Shadowlands, and stepped into a world of BDSM, soaking wet and freezing cold. Of course, that was in Bella's home-collection and not on her phone.

A scowl broke across her face as she forced herself to focus and read the words on the screen, some random novel. "_She was a strange cocktail of simplicity mixed with attitude…" – _Obviously, whatever this book was, she was in the middle of a 'character contemplation scene' when she stopped reading - "…_shaken with killer good looks. More importantly, he could tell there was a brain in that pretty head of hers…"_

"I won't ask…this time."

_It's about damn time! A jolt of adrenaline rushed through her veins. _She felt her skin tingle with the surge of excitement and anticipation; almost like an electric charge. A smile at his boots was all she could give, though. She was on the floor - he was tall - on the way up to seeing his face all sorts of other things would get in the way. She tried to dodge a frantic, eye fucking excursion on the way to meet his gaze.

A smile, a genuine deep gosh-darn-happy smile, was on her face as she fired a look up – way up – straight to his eyes. Peripheral eye fucking would have to do. Damn coat was in the way, anyway. Even from this angle the shadows interrupted any fabric truths she might have gleamed.

"Oh, now you're acting happy to see me?" He quirked an eyebrow and shot a smug smile down at her.

From down here she swore he was even more delectable. Like a treat. Maybe something from the movie 'Chocolat.' Hmm, after a moment of analyzation and applying that metaphor, she was sure that Ronald Dahl looked at Edward and then bam! There it was - the Scrumdiddlyumptious Wonka Bar.

She giggled at this discovery - oh how girlish!

"Laughing, but no talking?" He laughed, too.

Such an adorable sound, a deep throaty chuckle.

"Do you really want to know? I'll tell you the truth, this time?"

He feigned horror and hurt with a gasp, "You lied to me, how could you?"

Which made her laugh again. "Yep, afraid so." She nodded, smiling. Still resisting the all-out eye fucking urge.

- Cliché awkward moment of looking in each other's eyes too long without knowing what to say -

"I'm reading…" _What?_ She crunched her brow and looked at her phone, tapped the screen. Then, almost didn't say it out loud. _This one? Dear God._ She cleared her throat, fighting back waves of nerves that coursed through her. Her voice came as a strained, hoarse choke of a sound, "I'm reading 'Trey: Red, Hot and Blue' I guess." Feeling her face pale, she couldn't bring herself to look at him again.

Her newfound determination to land Mr. Sizzles in her bed didn't seem so plausible all of a sudden. Or the least bit respectable of her. This truth shit just wouldn't work.

Was it a good or a bad thing that he didn't say anything? She felt like whistling, or getting up and running away, or something. Anything to break the awkward tension that she was feeling. The imperfect grout lines in the tile on the floor were suddenly fascinating. She was actually surprised to discover that professionals weren't perfectionists; the joints were uneven and the tiles were skew from each other.

At some point in her forced mental musings he slid down next to her. "So is that the kind of stuff you read? All the time?" He cleared his throat.

His obvious discomfort made her feel less concerned with herself and more at ease. Apparently this was unsettling for both of them.

She turned just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye. Still not wanting full eye contact. Much too…intimate. He was perched in a folded-leaning crouch of sorts. His long legs were folded up in front of him, arms draped over his knees, fingers clasping his thumb.

Christ, he made everything look good.

She shrugged while visually tracing uneven grout lines. "That's not all. It's not all about…you know…there's real depth to it." God, she couldn't say things like, "it's not all about sex," and,  
it's not all about fucking," with him right there. He was way too close. Heck, even if he was probably on the other side of campus she wouldn't be able to say it. Those words just didn't come out of her mouth smoothly.

Then she laughed at herself when she realized she sounded just like Gabe in 'Control' – defending his reading of said materials with their 'psychological depth' that he liked so much.

She cleared her throat, willing a bit of strength, "That's the Playboy Defense, though. The truth is that I like it and it's just that simple."

There: real truth, flat out truth.

She dared to look in his electrifying eyes again. He swallowed, making his Adam's apple bob, then sucked in a small breath. He seemed like he was trying to work up the courage to say something, but the words were lost long before they made it out from his lips.

She was suddenly captivated by those lips, watching every slight movement. The pronounced crease on his lower lip. The darker shadow just under. The shade of darker pink and how it darkened further, slightly, at the corners of his mouth. Like the red in a sailor's sky in morning.

"So…did you read it?"

_Oh God._ She cringed the moment the words were out of her mouth. She was not planning on spitting that out. She couldn't make herself look away from his lips, though. They were just too captivating. She watched, mesmerized, when he separated his lips just slightly with a small gasp, and the corner of his mouth drew up with a slight smile. Ever so slight. Minute.

_THAT!_ That is exactly what drew her attention back to his words the other day when he was deep into ratting on himself about his discovery.

He swallowed again.

She braced herself against the urge to pounce on him like before. That wouldn't lead anywhere. It was much too soon, for him.

"No."

He was lying, though, she just felt it. The truth was on those lips. That little hidden smile, that sinful little look. There was something in the way he said it. His nervous hesitation. That subdued smirk. Yes, she sensed it in her veins deep under her skin. He was lying.

He read it. He couldn't deny it. She beamed with a mischievous grin.

"Really? Not at all? You said you would." She couldn't hide her delight. How fun would it be if he said yes? They could read all her favorite books together and make up their own frisky sex scenes.

He turned his face away, leaving her without that visual lock on his mouth. Loss swept over her before she laughed silently at how ridiculous she was being. He was still there in the hallway, it's not like he left and went anywhere. Now she had a side-view of his delectable mouth. For a man, he had the most sensual lips, smooth and lush.

Those lips, she needed to taste them again.

He also had quite the defined jawline, and stubble. More today than before. Had he not shaved in days? Not even a little bit? A few freckles and a darkened mole near his ear. His hair was long and messy - no combs for Edward? The other day, running her fingers through his hair was heavenly, so soft and supple.

It all was just too much. She tried to ignore the thrill just under her skin.

He didn't answer her question, either. He looked away even more. For the first time since he interrupted her book reading, Mr. Sizzles was being genuinely shy, not just reserved - or put off by an crazed sex proposal.

She tensed her muscles, fighting off a shiver as she watched him not watching her. Then frustration edged a bit, with the feeling of being lost, she tried to figure out how to get back to where they were before.

Yes, focus on that, because that shit was good.

He turned to her with a new expression: aloof, casual interest. "So how are your classes going?"

She quirked an eyebrow at the simplicity of his questioning tactic. That was how he handled awkward pressure, by changing the subject to safer topics.

"They're fine, I guess. How are yours?"

He nodded, but without enthusiasm, "Fine."

They looked away from each other, more awkward silence. She sighed in resignation at how things were so off. Shouldn't they be laughing and having a good time or something? Not this tension: odd, strange, weirdness crap. Surely this was not normal for anyone.

Bella pulled out her phone again – 11 minutes. Then she looked up at him, it seemed clear he wasn't going to say anything more and neither was she.

Just as she was about to go back to her book he broke the silence. "Bella, are you…ok?"

With relief, she looked up. If casual conversation was all they were ever going to have, she'd take it, seeing as how not talking was a bit torturous. She'd talk about anything, even the weather, if it meant they were conversing.

It must have been the lack of sleep and the horrific emotional roller coaster. Maybe the zombie-ism was wearing on her nerves. When she looked at his genuinely concerned expression - his brow knitted tight with worry and his eyes piercing into hers to gleam an answer - she swallowed back a flutter of painful emotions. She almost cried. The tightness in her throat, tears painfully working to her eyes. Damn it to hell, she couldn't say anything, now. One little word would send her into a crying jag – she just knew it.

Bella just shrugged. That was a safe response.

"I am sorry about the other day." His look of genuine concern deepened to an almost pained expression.

She looked away nervously, hoping that was all he'd say on the subject.

"I didn't really mean to hurt you or give you the wrong idea…"

She begged him silently to stop talking, this was just too much. If she wasn't postponing an emotional meltdown she'd have interrupted and changed the subject by now but the whole talking-and-crying thing was still a vicious threat. She tried to communicate this with a facial expression, but he wasn't getting it.

"…I'd like to…but maybe we should get to know each other first. You know. Maybe go out?"

Her jaw dropped.

Did Mr. Sizzles just ask her out?

She zoned out replaying his last few words in her head. Yeah, he asked her out. It definitely sounded like it.

He quickly added, "You know, just hang out a bit…get something to eat sometime?"

Oh, so he didn't ask her out, he was just aiming for the decent-guy-routine-before-a-fuck-to-establish-a-co nnection social-time. Also known as Lunch.

That was a major hang-up that Bella had not anticipated. Eating with Edward. Food. She suddenly felt exhausted, all of this crazy shit just caught up to her and there was nothing else that could be dumped and handled. Anything more would be too much. Sitting with Edward and consuming sustenance was just too much.

"When, like, today?" she asked, trying to find a way out.

He smiled, "If you want. Have you eaten yet?"

Spite her sudden bout of lethargy she smiled back and shook her head. "Nope, not today." Then she netted her brow in thought. "I don't _think_ I ate today. Really, I'm not too sure."

Had she? She looked around, deep in thought. She remembered eating a bowl of cereal but couldn't place when that was. It could have been yesterday. Technically, the last two days were all one big day because sleep was definitely not happening.

"Maybe that was yesterday, I'm not sure. Lucidity hasn't really been working for me this week."

"It's not because of me, is it?"

_Awe damn, how caring._

Nope, she was not even going to look at him and risk crying again. She eyed the grout some more. The thoughts she had earlier crept back into her mind. Her resolution to commit to his pace - however torturous – would be the only way to get what she wanted and needed. Would it be so crass for her to admit she also, sort of, just liked the idea of spending time with him? That wasn't so bad, was it?

With a pleasant smile she said, "Sure, Edward. I'd love to consume mass quantities with you."

He belted out a deep, sweet raucous laugh that made her melt just a little more. God, he was sexy no matter what.

"Can you afford to miss this next class? We can go now?"

"No, I can't afford too many absences early on. After class? Now that we're talking about food I am sort of hungry."

"Sure, after class." His smile was brilliant.

He stood quickly and offered his hand out for her to take, his leather coat creaking. Her heart raced at the thought of touching him. It had been forever – ok, well no – but it felt like it.

With absurd shyness, and a luscious blush, she slipped her hand in his and let him pull her up a little. Side by side, they made their way into the classroom and even sat next to each other. Still with an awkward tension, but it wasn't as much as before.

During the first part of class she struggled to concentrate, she was drawn to him with excruciating awareness. The longer class went on the harder it was not to look over at him. She gave herself the pleasure of eyeing his boots. How his clad feet and fabric bound legs were so attractive, she had no idea. He sat with a casual lean back into his seat, one leg sort of tucked under the seat, the other extended out in front of him.

She finally committed to a quick peek at his face, her skin flamed when he looked at her at the same time. For a brief moment their eyes met and once again she thought of delicious things like toasted loaves of artisan bread and olive oil.

The second part of class, though, was much harder to get through. Her eyelids started to droop. Her body felt heavy. She was exhausted. Insomnia was a bitch with a strapon and Bella was getting fucked hardcore right now.

Twice Edward nudged her arm to wake her up. Her vision blurred when she tried to focus on her notes. The idea of just finding a corner and curling up to sleep was rather appealing. Maybe crashing on a couch out in the student lounge was in order; she wasn't so sure she'd even make it back to her apartment to crash on her own bed.

She couldn't fight it anymore; her head met the notebook, spiral ring binding be damned.

**[Author's Note: 7/1/2013 – Edited. This chapter wasn't as bad as Chapter 2, but still needed quite a bit of work.]**

**References: **"Consume mass quantities…" is from Coneheads.

**Authors Original Note: maybe I'll take a moment to actually say hi and thanks for reading. I'm writing this based on experiences and fantasies from my own life. Why not? Live a little, hey?**

**I'm just kicking back and having fun with this – and in the future I'll write more frequently. The last two weeks were insanely busy with my husband home for a while and Christmas and all that – so I spent less time on the computer.**

**I have no stipulations for chapter length or even content – I have a loose plot concept but nothing is really seriously defined. This is purely for fun – so if anyone has ideas or requests for scenes let me know, I'll consider working it in.**

**Anyway – thanks again for reading. Reviews are always welcome but regardless of how few or many I'll keep writing!**


	4. Chapter 4: Exposed

**[Revised 7/1/2013]**

**Jezabella – Chapter 4 - Exposed**

* * *

A searing shot of pain powered through her head. Oh, if her eyes weren't already closed it would have blinded her. Fighting and straining with her whole body she lifted her head just slightly, cringing from the aching throb of a migraine. The thought of opening her eyes was less than appealing. With a groan, she relaxed her body, dropped her head back down, and didn't fight to get up.

Class apparently wasn't over and right now she just didn't give a shit. She had a fleeting bit of hope that she wasn't drooling, or snoring. Right there in front of Mr. Sizzles, that just wouldn't be good. Back to sleep.

She stirred again, still unable to force her eyes to open. The pain was just too much.

Her dream was quite bizarre, too. A boat…gently rocking…and the running aground on a beach. Of all the amazing, creative, private possibilities, her mind decided to take a holiday and go on a boat ride? Entirely absurd. Bella made a mental note to file a complaint. Maybe boycott her nocturnal meanderings for a while.

_Finally!_ When she stirred again the pain in her head was considerably less. Not gone, but far more tolerable. She didn't feel so heavy, either. After a deep breath she was able to force her arms over her head to stretch and loosen up her tensed back.

God, that felt good too. Relief radiated in her muscles as she was able to stiffen her whole self.

What, _wait?_

_How the fuck?_

Her eyes flew open, she was now wide awake, and in the dark. She blinked furiously, looked around, struggled to focus. It was dark, and her vision was so blurry she couldn't make sense of any bits of light and dark. She had no clue where on earth she was. Bella was terrified. A sense of being alone and shoved into someone's trunk flash through her mind, her heartbeat began to race – she was panicking.

After a second of sheer terror she realized she wasn't stuffed in a trunk – she was laying on something soft. A rug in a truck bed? No – she listened, still not being able to see clearly. Her vision was all sorts of blurry. No – no engine. Maybe she wasn't being abducted. So where the fuck was she?

She felt around on the softness beneath her – it was a…a what? More groping of the fabric. A blanket? A pillow? Struggling to see clearly, it finally dawned on her that she was in a bed, and it was sometime during the night.

Jesus, she was in her own bed.

A sigh of relief, she flopped back on the bed and cracked her head on the headboard. She gripped her hair as she balled up in pain.

"Motherfucker!" She screeched. "Holy shit, that hurt!" Curling around on the bed, she hissed, "Fuuuuck!"

After writhing and wriggling in agony for a while her migraine had returned with a vengeance, but the physical ache in her body began to dissipate. She rubbed her fingertips through her hair to feel for blood. Thankfully, there was none.

Sliding to the edge of the bed was quite the challenge, her legs felt heavy and stiff. All she did was not sleep for a while – oh – and punish her legs with constant fidgeting. Events of the last few days swept into her mind. Ugh! Thankfully that was over with.

Shuffling her feet, she slowly made her way to the light switch and clenched her eyes tight before she flicked it on. With great care, she worked her eyes up to some sort of tolerance for the piercing light.

Coffee – she wanted coffee. Out the door, down the hall. The place was dark and quiet so it must have been some odd time early in the morning. A glance at the stove clock confirmed it was 3:00 AM, on Saturday. She hoped, anyway. Just the next day, not the day after. If she missed over 24 hours of living due to sleep she was going to be pissed.

Of course – the pot was empty. "Fuckers." She went about the mundane task of fixing a new pot. Only to stand mesmerized, watching it drip. As the fuzz of her mind slowly cleared she started to wonder just how the fuck she got back home.

The last thing she could remember was falling asleep in class. But then the ache in her head started to pulse with her effort to recall whatever happened, she gave up. That heavy thinking-gear turning-fun would have to wait.

She braved another retina searing event and turned on the kitchen light, then shuffled into the living room to turn on the light there. Tightly squinting her eyes against the offensive brightness the whole time, sunglasses sounded ideal.

Coffee, breakfast, computer? Or couch and crash? That depended solely on the results of the coffee-breakfast thing.

The pot bubbled and hissed its last drops, and she slowly commenced the routine. Two scoops of cream, two scoops of sugar. None of that real cream. No, this was the cheapest store brand around, and it was the best. Name brands were overrated. Mmmhmm.

The warmth of the mug zinged through her hands, she hadn't even realized she was cold. Leaning against the counter, she took her first sip. Sooo good. She tipped her head back and let the warmth spread through her chest. Amazing what a little bit of the good stuff would do.

Yep, definitely couch. Who needed breakfast when partaking of the blood of the almighty coffee god? Henry Rollins would be proud – except for the cream and sugar. Ok, so he'd be repulsed and chunk her into the category of the City Nesting Dipshit for the add-ons. Just for Henry, she'd drink black and pretend to love it, if the occasion should ever arise when she'd be faced with the pleasure of doing so.

Did Edward drink coffee? She eyed the swirling, thinning foam in her mug. Or was he a tea-guy? Tea's good. Either way, she'd swing it to blend in with him more.

Well that was amusing. Since when did she ever go out of her way to appease someone else's interests? The idea made her laugh out loud.

Definitely the couch!

Feeling a bit more awake, shuffling was no longer necessary. She took slow strides to the couch, scooping the remote off the end table on her way there.

You know, all her life she had considered herself an atheist. The concept of God never made much sense to her. Religion was interesting when looking at it from the outside. She wasn't adamantly opposed to religious views, it just didn't gel with her. Well, maybe it would have if her parents were religious. They were divorced and her Dad's version of religious worship was being in a fishing boat early Sunday Morning. Her Mom, well, her Mom gave everything a try and never believed fully in anything.

So, no religious affirmations for Bella.

Up until this moment.

This was one of those moments, the testimonial moments that people talk about so much. At this moment she was suddenly quite aware that there was a God. He did exist. He most certainly loved her. He was blessing her with satisfaction and fulfillment in life.

Edward Sizzles was in her living room.

To say that her heart filled with absolute joy would be an understatement. It was so powerful she couldn't keep away an ear to ear grin that etched onto her face. Then that was quickly clouded over when she started to analyze just why Edward was in her living room.

Well hell, it was early. Coffee was only partially consumed. She was just going to have to ask him and quit the analysis for the moment. First up, being polite.

"Um. Sorry…would you like some coffee?"

He sat at the far corner of her couch, wide eyed, staring at her. A look of absolute…something. Something intense and gripping was on his face. In consideration, him being in her living room didn't seem like such the odd thing. Now that she was looking at him, the odd thing was the facial expression.

Not just his facial expression, but his entire posture. He was sitting bolt straight, entirely rigid. Eyes frozen open and locked onto hers, and he wasn't moving. In fact, he seemed like he wasn't even breathing. Was he in shock?

Concern and confusion crept over her. "Edward, are you ok?" She took a few tentative steps towards the couch. His eyes never left hers. He was transfixed. She moved slowly as not to scare him. Making slow movement to sit – but then deciding not to. He looked like he was going to have a stroke at any moment. Standing with a coffee in her hand as Mr. Sizzles died of asphyxiation right in front of her couldn't be a good thing.

Maybe he just wasn't a morning guy?

Whatever was going on it made no sense and it was beyond weird. He was in _her_ home, and she had no memory of how he got there, but he was afraid of her? A little backwards.

She crumpled her face with intense focus as she tried to remember whatever on earth happened. Obviously it was something epic.

_Oh God no – I hope I haven't molested him again._ She must have though, because look at him, he was just mortified to be near her. Fuck, she'd broken her Mr. Sizzles. She felt horrible for whatever it was.

Though his expression was horrified and pained, he was still quite stunning. Taking her eyes off his, she turned away with a measure of difficulty. Irregardless, she deliberately brought the mug to her lips and took a sip even though all she wanted to do was pounce on him, drag him out of his catatonic state with a smattering of kisses and desperate gropes of his ass. Pushing that side, her mission was to try to act normal and hopefully get him to relax. No big deal, just on the couch in a living room. She had a hot beverage and was on her best behavior! The mug and sweetness usually acted as insurance that everyone would be civil and appropriate. _Just getting comfortable. Nothing sexual. No contact, hands off._

A few moments passed and he still hadn't moved. She felt beyond awkward under his intense and extremely disturbing gaze.

She sighed while she thought about what to say next because this wasn't going anywhere. The more time they spent together the more awkward things started to get. Him turning up in her living room and renewing her faith in God was one such example of an all new level of strange. Together, they were redefined the term 'anomalous.'

Should she leave the room? Maybe he needed to go back to sleep? Maybe he needed sleep on a bed and not on a couch? Why was he even on her couch? With that last question, she was back to square one.

Sitting. That was her decision. What did he do? Of all the things for someone to do, he jumped off the couch, and in one quick leap he was against the wall. Pressed board-straight, his chest heaving, his eyes never left hers. A sheen of sweat formed on his forehead.

She took a step back. He really was terrified. Now she was nothing _but_ concerned.

"What's wrong?" She put her cup down on the coffee table and took a small, tentative step towards him. "Edward, are you ok?"

He said nothing, but as she took another step closer she could see him shaking. Just faintly, but he was definitely shaking.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?" Seemed logical at this point.

He said nothing. Now this was getting freaky, aggravating _and_ disturbing.

"EDWARD!"

His body jolted when she yelled his name, snapping him out of his – whatever that was.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He swallowed and took a deep breath, then finally tore his stare away from her. He clenched his eyes and mouth closed, took another deep breath through his nose.

"Bella," his voice quivered.

She had to make an effort to speak with a decent tone and not one of irritation, "What is it?"

"Please don't…don't…come closer."

"What?" She stood up a little more straight, not realizing she was even hunched over with concern to begin with. "Okay, I don't get what's wrong, here. Do you think you can tell me? Because I'm getting a little creeped out here."

He rolled his eyes, his body still firmly plastered against the wall. His breathing wasn't so intense, now, though.

"Bella."

_Spit it out!_

"Do you're…um…you're…"

"What…do I have shit in my hair or something? Is snot all over my face? If I knew you were here I would have at least looked in the mirror and wiped the boogers off my cheek." She started to rake her fingers through her haystack do. Surely it was horrendous seeing as how it was still partially trapped in her elastic – and the rest was just for humor. Well, she hoped she didn't have boogers smeared on her cheek. That would be horrid. He smiled a little bit at that. Still, he wouldn't look at her.

"Bella."

_Her name again! Oh God – this was just beyond grating. _For the first time her skin itched with fettered anger toward him.

"Damnit, Edward. What!"

"You don't have on any…um…you know." He waved in her general direction.

She was entirely lost, beyond confused. Her mind was spinning hopelessly, trying to process his craptacular miming skills.

He snuck a sideways look at her, his eyes no longer wrapped in a film of terror. They were now steeped in another emotion that she couldn't read. Whatever he was feeling, now, he still looked totally fucking tasty doing it. Too bad he wasn't more receptive when it came to _them_. The golden opportunity that was her bed lingered in the back of her mind.

He spoke so low she could barely hear him. What she thought she heard was, "You know you're…You're bear."

_I'm a bear?_ She took a moment to try to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. Maybe he meant she was acting like a bear? Maybe she was bare-foot? Surely he didn't have a problem with bare feet. Maybe her clothes had sort of slipped into some sort of revealing disheveled tangle or something? Her skin was bared – what – he couldn't handle a bit of tender flesh here and there?

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

She paled to the point of feeling faint. She wasn't a bear. Here she was standing in front of him, buck ass fucking naked.

She felt vulnerably exposed and entirely cold. How? How in the fuck does someone get up and not realize they're fucking stark? _How naked? Like bras and panties naked?_ She didn't want to look.

_No. No way. This must be a dream. It has to be._

Maybe if she didn't look it wasn't true? _Hah – take that!_ The complaint filed against her lack of a creative REM cycle was heard and this was the response: a dream about her getting down to the rough buff with Mr. Edward Fuckhot Sizzles in her apartment. Of course she was dreaming, that made perfect sense.

She'd take this over a stupid fucking boat ride any day!

When gripped with the reality of being in a dream, and not under the influence of a movie like Inception. You're naked with your sexual god. What do you do?

Hell – you make a move and get to it!

She took a few steps forward, suddenly feeling quite thrilled to be dreaming. After days of no sleep this was most certainly a pleasant surprise.

His eyes flew open wide, latching into her gaze, and a look of panic swept over him. He shook his head 'no' ever so slightly – but she didn't care. DreamWard and DreamElla were going to fuck and they'd even do it on the communal couch.

His voice was hoarse, thick and shaky with panic, "Don't…you need to…no, I need to go." He eyed the door longingly but didn't make a move towards it.

Briefly, she remembered sitting in class, frozen stone still in her seat, mortified, but unable to will her body into motion. Just like he was, now. Nailed into place because it was all too much to process.

She closed the distance as he slammed his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. Now she was just inches from him, almost touching. If she wasn't dreaming she would definitely not be so bold. Nope.

DreamElla was uninhibited.

To sooth his nerves, she reached out with one hand and ran her fingers along his jawline. Her skin was suddenly set on fire with excitement. She could feel her heart beating faster and feel the heat from his flesh searing into hers.

Tracing down his neck, along his shoulder and down the round of his shoulder she realized, much to her pleasure, that DreamWard was incredibly fit. She traced her finger around the defined sculpt of his bicep and forearm. He must work out quite a bit.

His breathing was erratic, he hadn't relaxed away from the wall or made a move to touch her. Frustration with his restraint was beginning to wear on her. Even in her dreams he didn't want her that way?

_Wow – thanks psyche._

She felt the impulse to look him over, map out his newly exposed flesh with her hands and memorize every feature of his rugged and perspiring skin.

As the rush of hormones kick started her mind into high gear like a shot of adrenaline to her heart, the inkling thought started to creep into her mind that this really wasn't a dream. It was quite real. He was really in her living room. She couldn't do it. He wasn't giving in, he seemed entirely, horrifically, thoroughly traumatized.

She really was fucked up, wasn't she? Of course, she had this realization time and again, but every time felt like the first time. How psychologically trashed was a person who worked their way into this type of a situation with someone? Someone who seemed so abhorred by the very concept of physical intimacy, no less?

The question of why he was terrified nagged at her. Bella wanted to know, desperately, what made him tick. Why this closeness to her being nude nearly had him going into shock like a victim of a heinous crime. As she looked up at him - hoping to make some sort of sense out of him and his nature, his thought process, or lack of - she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Being a lunatic, that's what she was doing. Bella was behaving like the crazy sex-fiend witch-haired loon that was so cliché in all the psycho-horror films.

She stepped back, and eyed his terrified expression as he made a valiant effort to turn his body into gypsum and blend in to the wall behind him.

"Sorry…I guess it's no big secret that I'm all sort of fucked up."

He said nothing.

Laughing derisively at herself, she struggled to think through what she should do. The idea of just walking out of the room was light years away from her tentative cognitive processes at this very moment. Aside from her crazed state of undress, she couldn't help but feel slighted. What would any normal guy do when a supposedly attractive female was suddenly naked and actually presenting herself to them? Would this silent freak-out response even be possible?

She looked at him, scrutinizing his posture. Now feeling entirely offended she said, "You look like you're having a heart attack. I know I'm not some sort of idyllic supermodel…and I've got some freaky scars and tattoos…but seriously. Not a shred of attraction?"

Maybe in this one instance it really wasn't her. Maybe it honestly was him this time. He hadn't made one single move to touch her, or look at her body. At all.

He relaxed his rigid stance a little, but not much. Slowly he turned to look at her. "No, Bella. It's not that. You're stunning." He did touch her then, in a way befitting of nervous, shy, reserved, restrained Edward. He brought his hand up to cup her elbow. Probably the only touch you could give a naked women which is so innocent it gives no allusion to being intimate.

She sighed and looked down at his timid contact point.

His voice was more level, now, "I really want to get to know you first. Is that so wrong?"

She shrugged.

"Is that all you really want, just to have sex?"

"Well…I don't know…but-" _But what?_ If this was a dream it sucked skunky balls. Now she was willing herself to wake the hell up even though it was futile.

She huffed, feeling embarrassed, but still felt no compulsion to run and hide. Just – she didn't know where to put her hands. Not a stitch on her, no pockets? Bella was so beside herself and lost she didn't even think about the fact that she was now staring down at his crotch.

Effectively delivering her words to his groin, "I just don't get any of this. It's all beyond fucked up and you know it." Her tone tapered to a pained whisper, "None of this is normal…I'm not normal, at least. I've been trying to sort us out and I haven't had any fucking luck."

"Look, you're tired." His voice was more steady, deep and firm. Almost commanding as he squeezed her elbow.

She wanted to look at him but just couldn't do it.

"Jessica told me you hadn't been yourself this week. Maybe you're sick? I stayed here with you after I brought you back because you could hardly walk straight. Go shower. Get dressed. Then breakfast?"

_Fuck._ There goes those damned emotions. She felt like she was going to cry, again. Her chest tightened and her cheeks drew tense, eyes burning with the tears that threatened. She felt a little comforted but just - off. It didn't quite make sense and she felt worn out from it all. Maybe she needed more sleep.

Dread swept through her when she realized that now she had to actually turn and walk away. Her fear, though, was that once she was out of sight her usual desire to hide away would bray it's ugly head and she'd sulk in her closet with the door shut until he left. If she wasn't out of her mind from some strange sort of sexual-deprivation delirium then this extremely awkward yet sinfully alluring experience wouldn't even have happened.

She wanted to go, but she didn't.

"Go on…it's no big deal. I'll wait for you. I'm not about to leave you like this."

Closing her eyes at the sound of his voice, so deep, warm and comforting, hypnotic. There was no denying his tone, he meant nothing sexual by it. She sighed with resignation as she thought about his delectable voice, and the fact that she'd be in the shower and he'd be just mere feet away - and he wasn't going to be coming after her.

Nope.

Edward wasn't going to turn a new leaf in such a convenient manor.

She was torn between being turned on and being hurt. Biting her lip, she steeled herself and forced herself to turn. Forced herself to walk quickly - but attractively and without any unsightly jiggling – out of the room.

Rule Number One.

No Shower Fun.

She chanted her Rules of Suppression while under the shower head. In the privacy of her bathroom the fog lifted from her mind. It was only then that she felt overexposed, like she was still naked in front of his terrified glare. Wrapped up so tightly in her thoughts, she didn't even register the scent of her shampoo, usually a calming aroma.

Resigned, she'd have to deal with it and forget that she made an ass out of herself, or breakfast with Mr. Sizzles wouldn't go well _at all_. What a shitty way to start the day, she needed a drink, fuck breakfast.

If she didn't break Rule Number One she'd be so lusty she'd probably grind out an orgasm while sitting at the table, coffee in hand.

Damn it, her joy toys were in her bedroom. Her own hand would have to do. Almost as if it was a burdensome chore, she quickly circled her clit with her fingers – ugh – a puny orgasm. She knew it was nothing compared to what HE would be able to induce. Heck, even if he was a bumbling virginal idiot in the sack, she just _knew _it would be good.

Up until now the idea of getting with a virgin seem entirely off putting. Though now thinking of Edward like that – not having been with anyone else – oh the idea was thrilling. She could teach him exactly how she wanted it, and no doubt he'd deliver with delicious dedication. He would be an apt pupil. Now that guy who spent almost a million to fuck a virgin somewhere in South America suddenly made sense.

Edward just seemed like the type to put all his effort into anything and everything. After all, he proved to be quite the student for his intense personal study regarding his quest to figure out what the hell she was reading.

One foot on the toilet seat, she frisked her leg dry with her towel. _Why was he even here?_ Being much more lucid, she still couldn't sort it all out. The last few days now seemed extremely fuzzy. After decent sleep and a shower - probably the first one in days - she was quite awake. Looking back into her groggy, jaded memory, she couldn't sort out much. None of it made any sense.

Didn't they have plans? What were they – something about going out to eat - but when? Where? Did they go and she didn't remember? God – it seemed like most of her week was lost to forgetfulness and zombie nature. Did she pass out somewhere – had she drunk herself into a stupor?

Dawning her usual attire, worn out jeans and an equally worn out t-shirt, she noted the time was still early - 5:30 A.M. Ugh, right now, in a normal week, she'd head back to bed if she found herself awake for any reason this early.

It was tempting, and that was exactly what she didn't want, to give into her usual compulsion to just run and hide. With him being so reserved, and her being so boxed up, they'd never get anywhere – as was evident by the fact that she was out there and naked in front of him and he only made efforts to distance himself from her. She needed to close that distance more than anything and patch up whatever trauma she caused.

Though her inner self was screaming at her not to do it, and she was almost shaking from nerves, she opened the door and stepped out of her room for a second time. Again, she'd have to buck up and try to take control of this whole issue.

Fully clothed.

Well – minus a bra, underwear and socks. She didn't realize it – but those items were entirely forgotten.

Hey – it was still early.

Things were exactly how she knew they would be, awkward. Irritatingly so. What to say? What to do? So they said nothing. They did nothing, except for drink coffee and eat food in painful silence with adverted looks and not even so much as a whispered, "Thank you."

Each time she brought the spoon to her mouth she snuck a glance across the table at Edward. He was busy ignoring her, looking out the window. Reclined in the chair, cocked sideways, one arm slung over the back, the other clutching the handle of his mug in the other.

Giving her privacy.

Hiding from her.

Of course he was hiding. Who wouldn't be? She frowned, eyes back to the random, swirling pattern on the beech wood tabletop. Aged and worn with the years, it was pocked, roughed and scratched. Bella couldn't let herself forget that she was convinced she was dreaming a short while ago. She tried to molest him against the wall, he had every right to minimize his interaction with her.

With his eyes adverted, she could admire him without him looking. No telling how many times he watched her while she had her nose and eyes buried into the cock and balls of her books.

At that moment, he was heavenly. It was quite surreal. Dawn started to creep, a faint, ethereal light filtered through the morning fog. Frigid outside, ice caked the grass. It was like Edward was sculpted as the Brooding Man by Ron Mueck – an ode to youth. Hyperrealism at its finest. Edward was her private viewing.

She tried to think back through all the many books she read, to find a way through this mess, but nothing really helped out. Bella wanted desperately to change all this strange bullshit. She couldn't remember aspects of the relationships – just the sex. Lots of the sex. Sex, fucking, screwing, whips, paddles, cuffs, orgasms and kissing. Her mind was a smut factory. Every time the smuttiness would rear itself, she shoved it aside, trying to find something real under it all. She kept prodding at this approach as if it would make Edward readable, predictable. She needed him to be easy; like a character from the pages, even though she had complicated things in so many ways.

After a while, she gave up, realizing it was unfair. He was a complete person, not a creation in a novel.

Several times she tried to start a conversation. Everything she thought of was just wrong. All wrong. Everything she thought of as conversation starters to get to know a little bit of something, she could only imagine ending badly. She thought back to her awkward week, her humiliating day in Theater and Literature class, and mauling him on the bench. All these things, and nothing made for level conversation. Even asking how they got to her place seemed fraught with innuendo, leaving room for unwelcomed humiliation and gross, perverted error.

She felt like everything was stacked against her.

So she settled in to just taking in his physical self. For the first time he was without a coat. He was wearing a light grey, plain t-shirt with a V-neck that let curls of his chest hair free. Yes, he most certainly did work out, of course he did. He was the embodiment of physical perfection. He was so lean, almost every muscle and tendon was visible – like Michelangelo had spent countless hours toiling over every tendon and vein. It was as if you took a statue – gloriously nude – and then had the audacity to clothe it.

She was jealous of the cotton that stretched across his chest; it's tight, narrow wrinkles running along his muscular curves like a meandering river through a valley. His arms were strong and firm, shapely. Not too much, just enough. His chest rose and fell with every metered, steady breath. He, in fact, seemed relaxed when she compared this Edward to the Edward she had petrified out of a deep slumber with her gaudy, boorish, nudity.

Was it just her overactive imagination or was his shirt truly hugging sensuous abs? Luscious washboard abs that flexed just slightly with every inhale and exhale? It was obvious he was quite firm by how the fabric just clung tightly to his form rather than being distorted by an excess of flesh and chubbiness.

He shifted, leaning forward, parking his elbows on the table. She was locked into how each muscle moved. His neck, how it tensed. The sleeves of his shirt and how they stretch around his biceps, gaping ever so slightly underneath his triceps.

She jumped in her seat, her sudden movement splashing coffee out of her mug when he spoke.

"Are you feeling better?"

_Jesus – there he goes with those questions of concern, again._ She swallowed down her emotions. Apparently those questions were too much for her to handle.

"Yes, I am. Are you?" Her voice strained, she couldn't bring herself to look up at him, now. Leaving her eyes on his exposed flesh wasn't going to help matters, so she went back to studying the dark and light contrast of the wood grain on the table.

"I'm doing a little better."

The tone in his voice made her want to look at him but she was afraid of how he'd react. Or how she'd react. None of this day had been very helpful in the 'getting to understand this strange situation' department. She sighed, wishing she was more like Jessica. More outgoing. More comfortable. More like Ms. Harding – hell – anyone else. Just something more solid. Even herself would be fine, if she could overcome - whatever it was - the crap.

For right now, she thought of Jessica, a real person. _What would she do?_ The thought made Bella laugh – Jessica would be boisterous, loud, outgoing and noisy as all hell. Jessica would have had her hands all over him and would have talked his ear off. Giggling, laughing, going out, and doing fun things together.

Meanwhile, Bella struggled just to say hi.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I've made this already uncomfortable thing just that much more difficult for both of us."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed.

Her eyes flashed to him quickly with a bit shocked. Was that a good laugh, or a bad laugh. "What?"

"I don't know why this is so different for me, either."

She smiled, only because it was impossible to stay sullen while he was humored about anything.

"What would you normally be doing right now if I didn't fuck up the weekend?"

He looked at her thoughtfully, a smile still touching his lips. "Sleeping."

Oh, right, duh. It was early a.m. on the weekend. Of course he'd be sleeping.

"Oh look, something we have in common." Her smile widened. The air shifted, things felt lighter, better. Like the joke and laugh had chased away the heaviness and tension.

He laughed again, deep and masculine. She could feel it vibrate through the table, it took her breath away. This handsome, stunning man was sitting at her table, laughing. It was surreal. His eyes were lit up, almost like they were casting their own glow from the inside. The flecks of green and blue on his irises danced with morning light and pleasantness. Memories of how he tasted when they kissed days ago rushed back to her thoughts.

She adverted her eyes, trying to reign in her constant sexual mental loop.

"I don't want to ruin the improved mood, here. But just how did you end up here?"

He cleared his throat. "You looked pale, like you were going to pass out. I had to carry you back, you weren't able to walk very well."

She paled. _Oh God –_ there goes Rule Number Three: No White Knighting. He had to swoop in and save her stupid ass. She was so embarrassed she wanted to crawl under the table. He CARRIED her. In his arms. While she was unconscious. Her stomach fell.

"It's ok. Jessica let us in, she said you were out of it all week, acting strange." He took a sip of his coffee. "She's a shitty friend, by the way. She had somewhere she had to be and just left…I couldn't bring myself to leave you like that."

It was Bella's turn to laugh, "Yes, she's not someone I rely on for much."

"Are you going to tell me what was wrong with you?"

The smile on her face suddenly melted away. Could she bring herself to do that? Well, he did see her buck ass fucking naked. The memory made her blush furiously. "I didn't get much sleep this week…and I think I forgot to eat." She frowned, "Well I ate half a bowl of cereal at some point. I can't really remember."

Silence.

He sat there running a thumb along the seam of the coffee mug. Deep in thought. "I didn't get much sleep, either."

Bella wanted to draw all sorts of conclusions from his admission, but refrained. "What kept you up?"

"You."

Her heart hammered erratically and her skin tingled. He was thinking about her all week?

"I felt bad after the other day, you know."

Well that doused things for her. How do you tell someone you couldn't sleep because you were wracked with the desperate need to fuck them? That's just not conversation material. Not with Edward. No, he couldn't handle her naked, he couldn't handle her, period. She was much too much and in a very bad way. She took a steady, deep breath to inhale the aroma of her coffee and sooth away the negative.

"I felt bad for the way we left things…I don't want you to think that I don't find you attractive, because I do." His voice dropped low with a strained thickness, "I meant it earlier when I said I find you stunning. It's just that I want to have more than a physical relationship with you." He swallowed loudly., "I just…I might sound like a prude or something, but I just can't go straight to that without getting to _know_ you first."

She scowled at the coffee ring on the table in front of her. Yes, she had figured out that much about him. He was one of those decency-before-sex type of guys. The one thing that most women complained they couldn't have, and it was the one thing she didn't know how to do. A relationship. Somewhere in her whacked week she had told herself that she'd do anything to get close to him. Now, though, her resolve was shaken.

"What's so difficult about that, for you?" he asked in a hushed tone.

She could sense his eyes watching her, and made an effort to smooth out her expression. Yes, it had bothered her that twice they had a conversation together which she couldn't remember. Bella could have already started to get to know him, but she was still in the dark. Meanwhile, it seemed that he was already on his way to getting to know her at least a bit.

"Why?" she asked.

"What do you mean, why? Jesus, Bella." He clunked his mug down on the table, splashing small puddles of black onto the slick surface. "I don't want to just use you like you're some cheap lay or something. You're smart, fascinating. Yes, I'm attracted to you in that way. I just won't _do_ that to you." He sucked in a tense breath. "Don't tell me that's the only thing you're interested in with me." He exhaled, "Please."

His word rattled around in her head. She didn't think of having sex with him as him being some sort of a cheap lay. No, of course not. Is that how he would have felt? Cheap – and used? Is that how she should have felt about herself – cheap and used? Well, she just didn't. She didn't feel like she had used anyone. Cheap? No. No one felt cheap to her, either.

Just convenient.

Willing and convenient.

No one had ever asked for more from her. She never thought about more. The only thing that bothered her was rejection after the fact, _because_ of what she needed. That was that. The very concept of doing anything else with someone just seemed so. Off. Strange. Odd. Stupid.

Honestly, what would they do together? Go to the movies? Eat dinner together? Bella almost laughed at the idea of her in a dark theater trying hard to watch a movie and not wanting to fuck. It was absurd.

None of that suited her – but that's what people did when they had a relationship with someone. They did all that dumb shit that she never, not a single time, ever wanted to do.

"Why?" He asked – returning her question when she didn't answer his. "You're thinking about far more than you're saying…Why?"

All this was making her feel uncomfortable. She could sense the hallway, and her bedroom door. Wanting nothing more than to get up and run, a sense of panic started to grow. Her nervous energy was channeled through her leg, again. She started to worry her bottom lip with her teeth.

He was slowly becoming an ass for denying her the one thing she wanted. No, she needed. Again, the difference between her an all the other normal girls was so stark - so contrasting - it was appalling. She felt that way, but knew it was wrong. There was nothing wrong with him at all, he was balanced and in control. It was only her unattended sex drive that made her want to blame him for anything.

"I already told you, I'm not like everyone else. I can't just switch it off once it's switched on. I avoided needing it for a long time and suddenly I'm back to needing it again." She looked at him. Pain and tense desperation started to show in her eyes. "And you're telling me you don't want to. You couldn't sleep because you felt bad." She sucked in a breath, forcing her to look away from his eyes. "I couldn't sleep because I couldn't think about anything other than fucking you. Your taste, your touch. I had just a little bit and it was incredible."

Now it was his turn to scowl with frustration and locked up thoughts.

Edward eyed the hazy fog outside, just over his shoulder.

"I don't know how to handle this," she continued though she felt like a schmuck. "I was better off without the tension. I've never had a real relationship because I'm a sex addict, and guys, evidently, find that to be repulsive." She laughed with a sharp edge. "They say men are pigs…but they aren't. Not at all." He had to know what set her apart from everyone else if he was entertaining the idea of being able to date her in any fashion. She looked away, to the clock on the stove - 7:12.

More endless silence. With deep breaths she focused on steadying herself and trying to slow the frantic movements of her leg.

"I haven't been able to balance it out…I've tried. It's been a long time. It's easier for me to just ignore it entirely. I haven't had sex in over two years. I could probably even count the days if I really wanted to."

Two years, Four Months, One week – she just felt that was too much information to give.

"Yes, I do want to get to know you more. It bothers me that I can't remember anything we talked about that day. I do remember all the thoughts I had in my head about you, though. How turned on I was. I am a freak. I know that." She sucked in another steadying breath. "I just know that if you and I try to do anything…anything together at all…you'd get tired of me like everyone else." She rubbed her forehead with her hands, "You are right, though. I don't want to be used like a cheap lay. That's why I've gone so long without it. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. I am _not_ a whore."

Surely now he was thoroughly aware of her issue, her dilemma. If not, she just didn't have any more strength in her to go on beyond that. After a short while she looked back at him, needing to know what he was thinking.

He was looking down at the table, just like she was doing, tracing the wood grain pattern with his fingers. She was too wrapped up in what he was possibly thinking to come up with some salacious thought about that. His face was tense and focused on working things out.

After a few minutes, he cleared his throat, and stilled his roaming fingers. "So…" he looked up at her, "…What if I say okay. Will you go out with me, then?"

_Holy Shit._

Her mouth fell open. That caught her entirely by surprise.

_It was Fucking Christmas._

* * *

**[7/1/2013 Author's Note - hehe . . . in retrospect maybe I shouldn't have made her so self centered...but she redeems herself later on - it just takes time.]**


	5. Chapter 5: Silhouette

**[Chapter Revised: 7/1/2013]**

* * *

**Jezabella - Chapter 5 – Silhouette**

* * *

She was speechless, her skin ignited as if she was a human torch.

_Boyfriend? Sex? Holy hell._

"I take that as a yes," he said smugly at her wordless response.

She nodded – powers of speech be damned. Bella was dumbstruck.

He beamed a delectable grin. "Alright, enough about sex." He shifted in his seat, their eyes still locked onto each other's. "Baby." His smile slid to a mischievous grin, then he sang, "Let's talk about you. And. Me."

Bella laughed so hard she started coughing spastically. Coffee singed her sinuses. "There, now I can die complete."

"Steady there. Didn't mean to kill you." He was laughing with her, a deep rattle in his chest.

She wiped a tear from her cheek, pressing her fingers to her nose to get the burning to stop. "You serenade me so good."

She steadied herself. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

Another one of those fabulous smiles of his lit on his lips. Bella's eyes widened as she watched him get up, slowly. Trailing his long, firm fingers along the rim of the table, he walked around to her. His gaze holding her eyes to his, steady and intense. Closer. He was just _right_ there. She felt a tingle surge under her skin. All she had to do was reach out. He stopped, his heat caressed her, thigh to shoulder. Tantalizing - almost - contact. The proximity was dizzying, she could feel the pulse in his heat from the blood coursing in his veins. Edward leaned forward just slightly…and scooped up her coffee mug.

He smirked.

_Smug little bastard. He did that on purpose._

"More coffee?" he laughed quietly.

She grinned. For the first time being made fun of was just sweet.

"Funny! Soo funny, Sizzles," she deadpanned.

He laughed quietly as he busied himself at the counter, his back turned toward her. The Mr. Sizzles Show, her new favorite prime time viewing. His muscles rippled with his movements: tensing to pour, scoop and stir. He was spellbinding. The fabric of his shirt was bunched up around his waistband, haphazard. The same way his pants were always crumpled over and in his boots. He was so disheveled, but immaculate at the same time.

Perfection.

The day started out with her being completely bared to him, but right now she could care less. It was the last thing on her mind. In fact, she thought about it briefly and there was just no shame in her. Not a shred of embarrassment. No lingering worries of humiliation and dread over what might be said next at her expense. No fretting over what he thought of her. He saw her naked – they didn't even fuck, yet – and he was still here. She might be totally fucked in the head but he didn't seem to notice.

No, he didn't seem to care, even if he did notice.

A few long strides, two cups of steaming coffee gripped in his hands. It was humorous and charming; Mr. Sizzles serving her coffee all gentlemanly and refined. Where were the crumpets? It was so – domestic. It reminded her of her mother and stepfather, Renee and Phil, early in the morning before work.

"What?" he asked, his one-way, cheeky grin lit his eyes with a radiant glow. Like stars of green and blue set in amber.

"I was just thinking." She looked down to the table, a smile still on her lips.

"About what?"

He dropped carefully into his seat, leaning forward, warming his hands with the ceramic of the mug. She watched with wide eyed wonder as the sunlight broke through the clouds and lit on his silhouette, glinting through his cinnamon hair. Sunbeams streamed over his shoulder, casting his shadow onto the table. He was bathed in light.

He had no idea how amazing he looked right then, he was entirely clueless. That state of unaware was frustrating the other day, like a scandalous tease, but now it was just so endearing. It was Edward – Oblivious Edward.

"So?" He prodded, blowing on his coffee. Such a simple thing, and yet it was intensely alluring. The pucker of his lips, how he licked them before taking a sip. He blushed when he met her scrutiny. Quickly, he looked away, shy.

"What were you thinking about? I'm _desperately_ in love with your laugh so I _must_ know."

Her heart raced over this Desperate Loving Edward. "My Mom." Bella sipped her coffee. "I was thinking about my Mom and my Stepdad, Phil." She looked down at her mug quickly and then back up at him, "You made my coffee just right…but yours is black?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sucked in a breath, looking down to the table, "Oh, yeah…I, ah…I watched you make it earlier."

Silence fell for a moment. Sitting, she processed that whole situation. In years past – with other strange and awkward situations – she always wanted to crawl under a rock. With Edward, though, it was all very different. Trying to see things through his eyes, she was laid out bare, and he was the one who was embarrassed about it. It was touching.

Bella felt bad about it, "I'm so sorry. I _really_ didn't know. I woke up with a horrid headache. I didn't even know where I was." She kept laughing, he look surprised. "I thought I was dreaming." Her smile was wide, deep and genuine. Did he realize how remarkable this revelation was for her? Bella couldn't care less. Things shifted between them and she hadn't even figured what it would take to undo whatever harm was done. She took a bit of pride in the fact that she wasn't begging for a paper bag and a neuralizer.

Edward's surprise shifted to astonishment. "Really?" He sat quietly for a minute as he eyed his coffee. "That explains a lot." It was his turn to laugh. "Oh wow – that explains it all. You really…had no clue you were…you know?"

She giggle, he was so sweet. "No. I do _not_ go around throwing my nudie self at guys in real life. I _swear_ it felt like a dream. My head was swimming, it was all so strange feeling." Another spasm of laughter. "You were sitting in my living room. I still don't remember how we got here."

His body visibly relaxed as he smiled, his shoulders slacked.

Ah, yes, that was one issue that she could address, now, his valiant home delivery. "Thank you, you know, for helping me get here safely. Obviously I was completely out of it. I fell asleep in class, then dreamed about being in a boat. Then I was horrified to wake up in someone's trunk! I swear I thought I was going to _die_."

His eyes lit up with humor at the situation they were in earlier. "Well I thought I was dreaming, too. You were quite angelic, you know." He met her eyes, his expression growing more serious. "You really are quite beautiful. I felt…I felt like I was fifteen again. I was speechless and terrified that at any moment I'd…" He quirked an eyebrow with a suggestively delivered, "…_You know. _From just you touching me."

"Oh? Oh…Oh! I see!" She smiled shyly and took another sip. "Sorry."

Edward wasn't disgusted by her, he was so enthralled by her he was actually _close_ to the edge. Yes, now this made sense. Finally, the events of the morning were perfectly clear and it was all just – fine.

It was fine. Something to laugh about.

She cleared her throat. "Actually, I think the coffee tastes better when you make it."

He chuckled while sipping his own.

"Can I hire you," she asked. "You know, to be my early morning barista?" She grinned, really entertaining the idea of Edward every morning serving her coffee in bed.

He snorted, smacking a hand to his mouth to keep from spewing his coffee on the table, choking on it.

"It's not allowed, it's a house rule," She tossed out after laughing with him again. "No dying at my dining table allowed."

He coughed and snorted, grabbing a napkin as he sneezed.

"Gasundheit," but her German response just made him laugh and cough harder.

After their ridiculous round of laughter ended she dove back into the 'you and me' of the conversation. "I'm an only child. What about you?"

"I'm a foster child, actually." He sipped some more, back to tracing the wood grain with his fingers. "I have a brother and a sister, Emmett and Alice. They're both married. They were all high school sweethearts, actually."

His eyes fell from her compassionate facial expression to her hands. She didn't know what to say in response. The downturn set of his mouth made her think it wasn't an entirely pleasant subject for him.

He watched as she ran her finger along the handle for a while, then grinned. "But we're a rowdy bunch when we're together."

He tried to keep a positive tone, but it fell flat. The effort spoke volumes. Edward was alone.

Well, he was alone, until now.

Her heart twisted tight. "Well then, good thing you're rude and nosey and cracked me open like the nut I am."

Sitting still for a few moments, he nodded his head slowly as he watched the swirl in her mug slow. Briefly, she thought she hurt his feelings, and readied for an apology.

Before she could speak, he brought his eyes back to hers, grinning ear to ear. "What kind of nut would you be if you _could _be one?"

Oh – food philosophy.

"A good question." Which she contemplated while sipping. "A cashew? Maybe macadamia nut. They're great in cookies."

"I think I'd be a pistachio."

She eyed him seriously. "Yeah, it definitely matches your skin tone. Oh! I'm a cacao nut?"

He pointed a finger at her, "No…you're definitely a Buckeye."

She frowned, "Aren't they poisonous?"

"Yes," He laughed, "I don't want anyone else eating you."

"Oh that's charming…you just want me to be lethal, then?"

"Well you've certainly given me a few heart attacks already. I say it's fitting."

"Death by sinusitis?"

He counted off on his fingers. "First, by taunting me with your giggle while you read. Then, by fainting on me. Finally, by drifting through the room in your birthday suit…What's next?"

She laughed, "I have no fucking clue. It'll be fun to find out, though."

"Yeah, it will be. I can't wait." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Edward-the-Flirt was cute.

They continued to toss around friendly banter, the ice officially broken into shards and melting away. Fun was officially disrupted during round two of paper-hockey with a hard and heavy knock at the front door. In a moment of fright, the folded puck was flicked high by Edward, striking Bella's collarbone, and scored three points in her cleavage.

When Edward pried his eyes off this newfound goal he met Bella's frantic, terrified look.

"Shit, what day is it?"

"Saturday?"

_No shit!_ "No. The DATE."

"It's the twenty-first."

"Fuck!" She jumped from her seat. "I had a thing I had to do today!" She raced to the hallway only to be stopped short when another harsh knock echoed off the walls. Slipping on the rug, she rounded the corner, and flung the door open. Without a word she slipped and skidded her way back into her room.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Toe painfully stubbed, she bellowed and grunted while digging through the closet looking for her clothes. "Fuck hell!"

"Angela!" She yelled out, "I totally fucking forgot! I'm so fucking sorry! I had a fucked up week! Then Edward, here…you know…fuck! Never mind!"

She slipped into a black skirt and a matching bra, then switched the bra out for a white one. Worked a pair of panties on in a hasty tug and pull contest with her thighs. Blouse on, buttoning it up twice because the first time didn't go so well. Hurriedly working shoes onto her feet with one hand while grabbing her hairbrush with the other. Then snagged a long black instrument case out of the closet.

She yanked the brush through her hair, her purse clutched in her teeth and the case in the other. Without even so much as a look she grunted a "let's go" and headed for the door.

"Bella! Relax! We're not late!"

Bella almost took a nosedive when her feet suddenly stopped. Turning, she saw Edward and Angela standing together beside the couch. They looked confused, humored, and perplexed - all at the same time.

Out of breath, sweating with a frantic heartbeat, she slipped the purse strap from her mouth. "What time is it?"

"It's only nine. We leave at ten."

Huffing out a sigh of relief, "Oh!"

Angela laughed, "Jessica's at Mikes. So I got here early thinking you'd be asleep." She quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "I had no idea you had company." Voice light, expression stern.

Bella was amazed that Jessica didn't spill all the beans.

After taking a moment to collect her senses, she dropped the case down by the door.

"Angela, this is Edward. Edward, Angela." She continued raking the comb through her hair, just with more care for her tender scalp. All the while she wondered why she didn't look near as good as Angela did in her black and white.

Angela smiled, turning to Edward. "Yeah, we've met."

"Coffee?" Bella offered. "Edward just made a fresh pot."

"No, thanks. Looks like you've had enough for the both of us."

Edward laughed a little, Bella shot him a look that only made him smile.

_Awe. Fuck._

"Well my Zombie Week is officially over so I figured I'd chemically stir my synapsis into action this time."

"Ah, I see." Angela nodded, her expression falling to a tense look. No doubt remembering other Zombie Weeks that Bella had. Angela's possible train of thought made her scowl in response.

So many years and so much baggage.

Edward made his way to the couch while images of earlier flashed through Bella's mind, making her smile. A sight she'd never forget: Edward's terrified figure as he took all his effort to look her in the eye, and nowhere else.

He cleared his throat, snapping her back to reality, "Angela told me you have some sort of performance you're going to?"

"What?" She frowned. "Oh, yeah. It's an Orchestra thing."

"Isabella," Angela chided, "Yes, An Orchestra thing. Don't sound so thrilled."

Bella laughed, heading into the kitchen to prep herself another cup of coffee – total overkill. Angela quickly made her way to the kitchen and snagged the mug from her hand.

"No." She scolded her like a child, "You'll laugh and then spill it like last time. This is your only white blouse and you cannot ruin it. Like last time."

Bella rolled her eyes in response.

Angela's expression suddenly shifted, her eyebrows shot skyward, "Edward! Do you want to hear Bella perform? You can come!"

They both looked to Bella in time to see her face flare a sinful shade of burgundy when a smile ghosted over his lips.

Angela explained, "If Bella wants you there, of course."

_Oh yes, it's so entirely up to me – _Bella thought as he kept his eyes on her, silently asking for an invite from her own mouth. Who was she to say no to him? "Um…yeah, you want to come?" Her stomach churned.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea?

"I'd love to be there." He smiled, standing and taking a few steps towards the bar, eyes never straying from hers. She wondered if she'd ever get use to his voice and how it affected her. It was like she could feel it surge under her skin when he talked.

Bella's stomach quaked, damn, since when did she get stage fright? "Well you don't have to. It's nothing, really. It's just a thing, you know. I'm sure you have other stuff to do today and all that."

She flinched as Angela whacked her arm. "Edward has _nothing_ else to do today, do you Eddie?"

Bella's eyes popped open wide, bouncing back and forth between the two of them, "You two know each other?"

"Yeah. Ben and Tyler are Edward's roommates."

Bella expression grew tight with thought. "I've been to Ben's but I've never seen you there." She settled her eyes on Edward.

A brief, strange expression fell over his face. Edward turned quickly to look at the instrument case by the door. Angela shot Bella a withering glare behind his back. Bella returned it with her own narrow-eyed stare, shrugging her shoulders with an unspoken, "What the fuck?"

"What do you play, Bella?" He turned back toward her.

"Oh…ah, the violin. I've played since I was a kid."

He rewarded her with a smile that buttered her heart. "I play the piano."

"Oh, really? My Mom plays…well that doesn't mean much. She plays a lot of different things…so…today we're doing a performance for…" _For what?_ It was all a blank, now.

Angela frowned at her. "It's a Charity Ball in Portland this afternoon." Clearing her throat, "…_Bella's_ the _soloist_."

"I am?"

"Yes, Bells!" Throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "Heavens, you forgot?" Gasping, "No, please tell me you didn't forget and you actually practiced this week! I even sent you reminders! This is important…_you know who_ is going to be there watching you?"

Who? No – she didn't know who.

Did she practice? She couldn't remember. No, no thoughts this week of anything along that nature. Just Mr. Sizzles. Edward. Edward. Edward. Frustrated, she shook her head to clear the thoughts that made no sense and were entirely unhelpful. The week was officially lost.

"Of course I practiced. I just had an off week, is all."

The look given in response by Angela was a rarity from her. Angela was pissed. Rare indeed.

Bella was startled by a firm hand being pressed to her back, rubbing small circles. Around and around. When did he walk over to her? But hell, it was contact and it was comforting, she leaned her head onto his chest. Closed her eyes and sighed at the tingling sensation that coursed just under her skin. It was comforting and stimulating at the same time. If that's how little touches felt with clothes _on_ she didn't think she'd survive any sort of intimate contact with clothes _off_. Flesh on flesh seemed like much too much.

But, fuck, he smelled good. She inhaled deeply. Fresh, crisp winter air and sunshine. He was firm, strong and warm, and oh so comforting to be near.

She turned to look up at him, his arm snaking around her waist, setting her skin on fire just like the other day. His eyes danced with sunlight and passion. Emotion, not just lust. Edward had feelings for her and she could see it in his eyes and feel it in the way he touched her.

He wasn't like the others, he was far better. He was sweet, caring, mature, and respected her in ways she didn't even respect herself. It was new.

A shiver raced down her spin, but left searing heat behind.

He was the one to lean to her, this time. Their lips met, then their tongues. The intense taste of cinnamon and spice met her buds again. His full lips felt just right, just so perfect against her.

Bella's heart hammered out a rhythm that did its own little tasty dance with his. Edward groaned deeply and drew her closer, pulled her tighter, up on her toes, keeping her from falling to the ground. Stubble scratched at her chin and jaw, the sensation only spurred her on.

Something she always tried to steer clear of: the kiss.

Kissing. It was always a secreted fantasy. Sex was one thing, but the kiss – the nearness of one's eyes and nose to the other - was so much more meaningful. Much more – so much more.

Intimacy.

Just as she reached her hands up to thread them through his silky hair, they were interrupted.

"It's Charlie!"

Bella broke from his lips, dropped her leg back to the floor, darting eyes around the room to find him.

"On _my_ phone! Did you lose yours?" Angela stood with her hand outstretched, holding the phone for Bella to take.

"Bells!" Charlie quipped with his usual gruff demeanor. "I couldn't get you on your phone so I called Angela's, I hope she doesn't mind."

Bella sighed, "Hey Dad. It's fine. Sorry, What's up?"

"I'm not going to be at the Charity, tonight. I just wanted to let you know so you weren't disappointed."

Of course she wasn't disappointed.

"No, that's ok. Is everything alright there?"

She was distracted, though, by Edward's hand as it rubbed the flesh of her lower back – under her blouse.

"Everything's fine. Just the usual. Work. I'll make plans to come and see you, make up for-"

"Time to go!" Angela thrust her purse and case toward her.

Once off the phone, Bella laughed. "I'm not ignoring my Dad on purpose, Ang. Things are a bit better between us, now."

"Oh well – just helping out."

~x~X~x~

Sitting in the back seat of Angela's archaic Sedan, Bella began to feel more and more nervous. Her stomach rolled with the hills they climbed up and over. Their morning was beyond strange. It was not even midday, and she was already torn between feeling elated, and feeling entirely worn out. Laugh or cry? The emotional possibilities were endless.

Angela kept trying to engage her in conversation, but it just wasn't flowing very smoothly. Wrapped up in thoughts, worry, nerves, and more nerves - and a faint but still ever present humming under her flesh from the proximity to his solid self.

Her mind whirled. They were now dating? Was she supposed to introduce him as her boyfriend? How would she answer the question, "How did you two meet?" It was almost humorous enough to make her laugh.

"What's the charity for?" Edward asked, his hands palm down on his jeans. He was tense. She wondered if he was nervous, too, and if so, from what. Maybe he really did have plans and felt like he was forced into going to this even.

"Oh, it's your Mom's thing, Edward. In Port Angeles."

Bella was stunned into silence. Her mouth fell open. "The Charity is your mother's _thing_?"

He shifted uncomfortably, flexing and tensing his hands on the smooth of his thighs.

"Yes. I didn't know. It's not that big of a deal, is it?"

No – not that big of a deal.

Nope.

None at all.

Only that she was going to this event having only heard of Esme Cullen through the grapevine. Tonight she was going to meet with her. She was going to meet her fresh boyfriend's _mother._

A gasp slipped out of her mouth between her upraised fingers. This was horrid. This was absolutely horrible. Not only was Esme going to be there, but so was Mr. Cullen. _Dear God._ They were going to meet the _Cullens._

Mr. Edward Sizzles was Mr. Edward Cullen.

Ms. Isabella Swan was Ms. Fucking Idiot who didn't even practice for her grand solo performance.

This was going to be a nightmare.

_Why continue!_

"Hey Angela. Let's go back. I feel sick."

Angela shook her head, "No, Bella. You signed up for the next solo performance at our last tryout. You qualified for it. You're playing three pieces, everything else is with the orchestra. It's simple work. You know the pieces already. You'll be fine." She leaned over to the empty passenger seat and tossed a manila envelope to Bella. "Your solos…review, you'll have time to practice some. When you see Esme and Carlisle you will say 'Hi!' with a cheery grin and they'll love you."

Bella huffed in air, trying not to panic. Edward reached over and took her hand in his – even though it was clammy and cold from nerves and sweat – and kissed it.

She shot him the stink eye, he just grinned.

"I love that spiteful look you give me." He said with a Shakespearean lilt, "Madam, it is like you hate me truly and deeply, my blood boils and you make my heart race like a crazed pony on the track."

She laughed so hard the seat shook.

"I want to rut and bray over you each time your vicious glare sets my soul on fire like a manic wild horse." He bowed to her and kissed her hand again.

When she started crying from laughing he wiped her tear away.

"Did you know that there's a porn for guys which has images of women crying?" he said.

She let a shocked laugh drift through her lips, "_What?_"

He went on, "Yeah, it's a therapy thing."

"That's the single most fucked up thing I have ever heard in my life. Seriously, what the hell?" She was mortified over the concept but couldn't stop laughing. Meanwhile, Edward managed to keep a straight face all the while her sides started to ache.

He shrugged.

Coming down from her laughing frenzy she huffed and sighed a bit, "I think I'm still off, I should have eaten something. Hey, Ang?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you still have those energy bars in here somewhere?"

"Umm…ew! Yes, they're under my seat. I don't think they're any good. That was a long time ago. I can pull over somewhere."

Bella popped off her seatbelt and squirmed down on the floor in front of Edward's legs. The tight skirt making it even more difficult to get down to the floor. He shifted to try to give her more room.

"I don't see them. Damn."

She worked an arm out from between his leg and her body then extended it out to him so he could help her up. When he didn't take it she twisted her head up and around.

Edward had his wide, lusty eyes glued to her round ass.

"Ahem!"

Crimson touched every inch of his exposed flesh as he snapped his face up to look at her. A moment went by before he saw her outstretched hand, groaned as he pulled her up off the floor.

Silence settled as she made her way back to her seat.

"Maybe you shouldn't eat them, anyway," Edward said. "I've heard that some people have grown extra legs after eating those things." He flashes her that damned smile, again. The one that butters her over.

Her mind spun, that was a reference. A literary reference. What scene was that? Her mind flipped through all the books she's read, she stared at him as if the title was writ on his forehead. After a few minutes it came to her, the sad scene in 'The Horizon' when Quade and Sol were dying in their drifting spaceship, remembering random, funny things from The Corporation.

Gasping, Bella whacked him on the arm. "That's for lying. I _knew_ you read it!" Another fit of laughter.

"Yes. It's a good story with well-defined characters and a unique plot. I see why you like Stein, she's…entertaining."

Rolling her eyes, "You sound like the back cover."

He nodded, leveled his eyes at her thoughtfully. "I told you and I meant it…it really is ok. I'm not judging you for it."

She sat back, stunned. Speechless. Yes, it really was ok with him, wasn't it? Then she turned to look out the window as the trees flew by.

Her thought from earlier that he couldn't care less about her quirks and issues came back to her. Edward was too good to be true. She slipped her hand back into his and squeezed it, afraid that if she talked her voice would betray her shaky emotions.

He broke the silence, "I do like being called Sizzles, rather than Apple-Butt, though."

More laughter. "It's _Mister_ Sizzles…because of your eyes. They make me think of hot oil in a copper kettle sizzling over the heat. You have little flecks of blue and green in them and they glint like amber in the light. They're…hypnotic."

Looking at each other for a few moments, peaceful silence between then as the car leaned around a corner. Shadows chased everywhere.

"Your eyes always made me think of falling leaves…and the earth," he mused. "Reminds me of home."

She blushed furiously. Her eyes made him think of home?

He poked her shoulder. "Alright you, time to ignore me and tune into your music. I won't bother you again."

He laughed at her frown, gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek, and shoved the envelope into her hands.

The rest of the drive was in silence as she leafed through the music – thinking though all the little nuances, bowing and tempos. All of them were known pieces. She let out a sigh of relief over their familiarity. A were in her repertoire for years.

~x~X~x~

Arriving, she was more relaxed than before. What was a daunting reality; Edward with her and watching her perform - was now a pleasant sense; Edward would be with her.

In a small backstage room she tuned her instrument with the other performers. Forcing herself to focus solely on her music and not on Edward's presence in the other room was rather difficult to manage. Even through the wall she know he was just so – there. It was like she had developed a sixth sense.

For her solo practice she stepped into a private room – a powder room near the a bathroom. Meanwhile, Edward slipped out to meet up with his mother and father to prep them a little. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and words of encouragement before leaving. She wouldn't talk to him until after it was all over, but that was okay. She was fine. Just fine.

The ensemble began with a Waltz by Brahms, a quartet piece. Angela played cello. This piece was one Angela's and Bella's favorite to practice together during the summer. It was smooth and light.

That piece was followed by her solo of Sherzo by Beethoven. The spritely pace always made her heart race. She made only one mistake, losing her place and played the same section twice. In the end it still flowed smoothly. What was music if not a little repetitive, anyway? Conductor Bricklyn gave her a comforting smile after it was over.

Bella forced her nerves to fully subside by the third group-piece. It was full orchestra this time. They played Le Plaisirs by Telemann. This was wholly fun to play at Galas and Balls – everyone was always so entrancing on the dance floor. Bella tried to watch them as much as possible without losing her place.

Everyone was graceful, it made her a little envious. During a brief pause for a speech given by Esme, she closed her eyes and tried to tune it all out: staying in the music moment, not letting herself get distracted by his mother's voice. That also meant resisting the urge to look around and find Edward.

Briefly, she wondered where he was, and how he managed when he wasn't dressed for the event at all. It never occurred to her that he was only in jeans and a shirt, entirely out of place. Hopefully it didn't work against him too much.

More importantly, she hoped his mother didn't give him a hard time.

Bella laughed at herself and her failed effort to stay focused.

Another favorite solo piece was next: Mazurka by Tchaikovsky. They followed that with the Minute Waltz by Chopin, full orchestra. Then her last solo: the uptempo and entrancing Habanera by Bizet. Being no David Garrett, it was a struggle for her to play, sweat always beaded on her skin, and in the end of it all her fingers were sore from the tension.

A round of applause and a bow, then it was over. Just like Thanksgiving dinner; all that time to prep and it's over with before you know it.

While packing away the bow and chinrest, she felt warm, strong arms wrap around her waist.

"You were amazing, Bella."

With a sigh she leaned back into his solid warmth. "Thanks Mr. Sizzles. I was worried they would have stuck you in the kitchen for being improperly clad."

A warm, lush kiss on her neck sent a heated shiver down her spine. That was entirely new. Entirely pleasant. This kissing thing with Edward was addictive.

"Mmm. Quit it. I still have to meet your parents."

She felt him shrug as he gave her another kiss. Then another. He caressed her stomach with his fingers and drew her closer to him. Wide-eyed, it took no time at all for her to _feel_ that he was incredibly turned on.

"_Edward_." A wave of need and nerves rolled under her skin. "We still have the long drive home. We can't do anything _here._"

"Why not? You want to, I want to. Why not?" he whispered in her ear, his deep baritone sending another shock through her senses.

She laughed. That sounded so much sexier and compelling from him. "Your _parents_ are here."

"Bella? Are you telling me no?" he loosened his hold on her, but she didn't make an effort to step away.

"Ah. Hmm. I guess I am. I am saying no, Edward." She cleared her throat, trying to get a handle on her physical self, but that just wasn't happening. All she could feel was the rough of his jeans through the slick of her cool, smooth skirt. His heat permeating through the layers, singing her flesh through the thin barrier of her blouse. She was turned on, and he knew it.

"Is that a no-no or just a sort of no?" True disappointment tainted his words. He pulled her tightly to him, again, asking, "What am I supposed to do about _this_, then," as he grinded her lower back against his hard cock with his hands.

She clenched her jaw, resisting. Trying to resist.

"Resistance is futile." He growled into her ear.

Swatting his hip with her hand, she said, "Maybe you should go into the bathroom to take care of that?"

He stood up straight, grabbed her wrist, and spun her around. A violent shiver ran through her body, she felt trapped by him and the look of feral lust in his eyes. His face was tense, his eyes wide, his jaw set tight. His grip on her back made her knees weeks. This – was pleasantly new.

He took her arm in his hand and led her out of the backroom. She practically ran to keep up, her pantyhose and skirt swishing, heels clicking down a hallway. They went up a flight of stairs. Saying nothing.

Greedily, he kissed her deeply, with more intensity and passion than their morning kiss, or the first kiss on the park bench. Faintly, in the back of her mind, the thought that they shouldn't be doing this knocked around. Ignored.

He wrapped one hand tightly around her hip and worked her blouse up with the other, settling his hand on her lace clad breast, flicking his thumb over her perk nipple. Her skin flamed, again, prickling heat raced along the surface. A delicious moan slipped from her lips as he moved to quickly undo the buttons with his hands.

The silk of her blouse rustled as he slipped it off her shoulders, fabric ghosting down her back as it fell to the floor.

"You have no idea how incredibly sexy you are when you play." He bit at the newly exposed flesh along her collarbone. A lick of pain and pleasure chased through her tendons.

She tried to say something like "oh god" or "oh Edward" or what have you, but only another deep moan came.

"I've been painfully hard since the first note you played," Back to kissing her, tongues touching and dancing. She felt her body tense, wetness soaking through her panties, ached with need.

Of all the thoughts she had; entertaining the idea that Edward would become so unhinged and lustful wasn't quite one of them. It was a fleeting hope, but this? She didn't see this coming. This took her by surprise.

A pleasant, invited, and thrilling surprise.

The total darkness heightened her sense of touch and taste. She felt electrified by the blindness. The room smelled of clovers and paper, but that was overpowered by the fresh, glorious scent of Edward. He still smelled crisp and clean as if he just hung himself out to dry after a shower.

Heated wetness evaporated into puckering coolness when he pulled away from her lips, his legs still pressed against hers. Movement, bending? She couldn't anticipate his touch, it was all a mystery. A surprise. She could barely make out his form in the darkness, an edge of light traced around his silhouette from the beams that crept through the doorframe.

Warm hands traced up her thighs, dragging her skirt upward. She sagged against the door. Coolness of the skirt fabric electrified her skin with each light brush and movement. At the peak of her thighs, he slipped his fingers under her panties, and stilled his movements.

Just as she was about to find the voice to say something, he slipped his hand down her legs, caressing her thighs and calves slowly as he took her panties down. She watched his ghostly form moving in the darkness as he carefully lifted one foot up and then the other.

"Christ, Bella. Your legs are incredible."

His voice vibrated with heated breath on her legs, making her shake. Skin charged and hummed with every bit of contact as he started to lick and kiss his way up her calves. A wave of dizziness swept over her – up against the door had its downside.

As if he heard her thoughts and sensed her faintness creeping on, he stood quickly and gripped her waist with his firm hands.

"Wrap your legs around me." He could probably make her cum with his voice alone.

Shakily, she struggled to do as she was told, lifting one leg and then the other, then hooking her feet at the ankles. Her ass was pressed to the cool of a hard surface, papers were shuffled out the way with a sweep of his arm. He perched her right on the edge. The cold would have made her cringe if she wasn't so heated she could melt wax.

In the dark, his clothed heat pressed against her liquid, bare self, was textural overload. She tugged at his shirt, trying to find the strength to pull it up, failing miserably.

Slowly, he slipped his hands from behind her back, unhooked her bra as he went. She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped his shirt off, feeling the ripple of his muscles as he drew it up and over his head. The fabric ruffled quietly as it was tossed to the surface and then fell to the floor.

Mouth back to hers for a light kiss before stepping back just enough to reach between them and undo his jeans. He took her hands and placed them on his hips, for a moment she was so lost she didn't know what he wanted. She was lost in the feel of his firm ass under her hands before she leaned down just enough to work his pants and underwear down. He sucked in a breath and hissed out a groaning moan as she hooked her feet into the waistband and shuffled it down further.

He grabbed her thighs with his hands and squeezed softly. "Fuck, Bella."

She grinned though he couldn't see her in the dark.

With both hands firmly around her, he leaned her back a little. She reached one arm behind her for support against the surface, wrapped the other around his neck, ruffling his hair with her fingers.

He took her arm from around his neck and guided it down to his cock, wrapping her fingers around him. Putting that nagging curiosity to rest, he was definitely on the upper end the scale. Quite well endowed. Images of salacious porn shots raced through her head. _Damn_, he was right up there.

"You can change your mind."

All she could do was shake her head frantically as she stroked up and down his length with a firm grip.

_Fuck_ – that first day when all she felt was annoyance at the fact that he interrupted her 'Artie has a massive cock' scene, she had no idea that the man next to her was just as blessed.

And he liked her.

He let go of her hand as she continued to stroke him, feeling his smoothness, wetting his cock with the pre-cum that collected at the tip. Over and over. She could hear the ripping of foil. As he worked a condom down his cock she gripped his wrist. The rolling motion of his hand was so - something – intriguing.

For a fleeting moment she wished she could see it. Never before had this necessity caught her interest but feeling his tendons and muscles tense and flex spurred her excitement. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks – just lightly, sweetly.

"Bella?" his voice thick and shaky, he sounded uneasy. "It's not going to be too much for you, is it?"

For a moment she didn't know what he meant. She did declare she was an addict, didn't she? Definitely no virgin. Awareness flashed – oh yes, _IT_. She shook her head no - talking hadn't been an option ever since he shut and locked the door. Their first time would be here in this dark room on a desk.

Another deep kiss, the suspense was killing her slowly. She was wound so tightly that she was in actual pain. Pain that throbbed with every frantic heartbeat.

She wrapped her legs around his hips. Taking his cock in his hand, the other behind her neck, he touched the tip to her hot, wet pussy with the head of hard prick. Drawing out another deep gritty groan from her throat, matching it with one of his own.

He tensed with his effort to slide his cock in. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight. You're on fire…you're so fucking hot."

She slid her legs higher up, around his lower back, and leaned back down onto the surface. He entered more easily, slowly. He was out of breath, stood still to pace his breathing, shaking with the tension. She felt a bead of sweat drip to her stomach. He gripped her hips and pulled her toward him.

She hissed and groaned as he slid in all the way. It had never been so difficult, not even the first time. He was almost too much.

He started with the rhythm - in and out. Shallow at first - in and out. Then all the way – in and out.

She lay back onto the surface, gripping his shoulders with both hands, letting the power of his thrusts jolt through her body. Each thrust was satisfying in itself but stoked her ache at the same time. Contrasting sensations.

Dizziness swept over her again – all that panting, not enough oxygen. The pain, the ache began to climb higher. She couldn't handle much more. The sound of his muscle and flesh slapped wetly with sweat against her heated skin. It hadn't been very long, but it was all sensory overload. She needed to orgasm. It was too much. He gripped her hips tighter as he sped up, grunting deep groans of satisfaction and pleasure in her ear.

With no leverage for herself, she couldn't move to meet his strokes to friction a release. One hand gripping his neck as his body rocked back and forth, he brought one hand up to her breast, caressing and tweaking her pert nipple. Satisfying moans slipped out as she worked the other hand down her stomach – to her clit. All it would take was a few strokes of her own and she'd go over the edge.

He grasped her hand. "No." His voice was firm and tense.

_No?_

"I need to, _please_." Yes – tell her no and she'd find her speech faculties, again. Reduced to begging – anything to get what she needed all this time.

"You will…with my cock…" He emphasized with a deep, driving thrust. "…in your sweet pussy…" Another deep thrust. "…like this."

She was wide-eyed, taken aback, and a little afraid of that concept. How long would it take? How much more intense would the ache get? Was it even possible?

She relaxed back onto the hard surface, letting his jolting rhythm rock through her body. Her thighs started to shake, uncontrollable heat twitched and ran through her muscles. Surges of tangy heat and numbness. She couldn't hold her legs around him much longer. He was drawing her strength from every muscle.

"I could fuck you like this all day," He growled out. "You're so unbelievably tight, I'll never get enough of this."

As one leg slipped from around his back he leaned away, took it carefully, and hooked it over his arm. Then did the same with the other leg. He gripped her hips again with his hands. Grinding into her with a swiveling motion with each thrust of his hips, the sensation was devine. Left, right.

She caressed his chest and abs with her fingers, running her hands through his curled hair. Feeling each muscle as he tensed and stroked into her. Slick with sweat, she brought one hand to her mouth to taste him, the salty tang.

With this shift in her hips and new rhythm, he hit deeper, a different sweet spot. God, he was so much more than anything she ever had before. The spasms in her legs began again; a numbing, floating sensation started to work its way down to her toes, up through her torso.

Weakness worked through her, she couldn't reach out to touch him anymore. She suddenly felt like she was falling. Falling and being singed with the pleasure of an intense and deep release. Wave after wave ran through her center, working its way out. All of her muscle shook and tensed. Heated currents traveled, over and over. He was saying something to her, she couldn't hear. It was like he was under water. Everything faded away, there was nothing but the pleasure that coursed through each muscle and bone. Swirling, dizzying sensations. Touch and taste all married together.

Faintly, off in the distance, through her haze, she heard him yell out as he came. She felt so heavy, he was so far away. She tried to reach out and touch him but she couldn't feel her arms well enough to move. It wasn't frightening, though. It was warm and comforting, she never wanted to regain her senses again. She was high.

High on Edward.

It was heavenly.

* * *

**References and quotes:**

"Let's talk about sex, Baby" – Salt n Peppa

"Resistance is Futile" – the Borg from Star Trek, The Next Generation.

**[Author's Note 7/1/2013 - my first FF lemon. When editing I didn't restructure the sexual events at all, I just touched up the spelling and grammar so it flows a little better]**


	6. Chapter 6: Truth

**[Revised 7/3/2013]**

* * *

**Jezabella - Chapter 6 - Truth**

* * *

Bella thought she heard her name. Softly, off in the distance. She tried to open her eyes, or move, felt too heavy.

"Bella, open your eyes. Are you ok?"

_I'm fine, let me go back to sleep._ She smile as she tried to roll over and wrap up in the warm blanket that was around her.

Edward laughed. "You have the sweetest smile. You need to get up, though."

Another moment went by in cozy comfort. Then it flashed into her mind just what they were doing and where they were. Her eyes flew open, she found herself in a dimly lit room, looking into Edward's eyes. They were on the floor, she was curled in his lap. The button of his jeans dug in to the meat of her thigh.

He was smiling down at her, relief in his eyes. "There you are. Hey Buckeye."

Sighing heavily at the endearment, she smiled. "Mmmm."

His deep and gravelly laugh vibrated through his chest and into her shoulder. "It was too much."

A head shake for no. "That was amazing."

"Yes, it was." He kissed her forehead and then her cheeks. "Come on, Buckeye. I'll help you get dressed."

She groaned in protest, "No, I want to stay here." Reaching out a shaky hand to stroke his jawline. "I never knew it could be that good."

He smiled. "With a name like Mr. Sizzles I have to live up to these higher expectations."

As he helped her up off his lap she felt – different. Not in a bad way, not sore, either. For the first time in days her body was fully sated, the humming, thrumming energy just under her skin was gone. It was so entirely pleasant she didn't want it to come back. Edward was good for the soul.

Once on her feet, he held her in his arms, breathing in the scent of her hair, stroking his comforting hands along the sculpt of her spine. She peeked through her heavy eyelids and took in the sight of his creamy pale flesh and curly dark hair under her fingertips. His heartbeat a steady, strong rhythm in her ear.

~x~X~x~

"I can't do this," she mewled as she swiftly tugged her hand out of his and stepped back around the door. The smell of musty walls and lemon freshness wafted in the air: aged hotel aroma.

A heavy sigh, "You don't have to. We can just meet back up with Angela." He took a step in her direction, hand held out. Disappointment was in his eyes sending a wave of guilt through her. _Fuck hell_ - He really wanted her to meet his parents.

"Agh! Fine!" Arms crossed like a petulant child, she hastily stepped out from her hiding spot. The place where she spent the last ten minutes rocketing back and forth between meeting his parents, and not.

"It's not funny," scolding him and his humored snide little laugh, sensing the avenue of escape as it grew smaller and smaller with distance.

"I'm laughing at the humor of the spheres, not at you, Bella." He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, matching his stride to hers.

She just rolled her eyes.

"When did you become a Sex God, anyway?"

Ah! _That did it_ – now he was nervous. A pleased smile crept over her face as she watched blush seep across his cheeks. He shrugged shyly and said nothing.

With tentative steps, Edward guided her across the room, around other patrons. They finally came to a small group of men and women deep in discussion.

Her hands shook, but it wasn't the same tense nervousness she felt all week. This was just regular, normal nerves. For a fleeting moment she felt normal. This was normal nerves, normal tension. Natural. The thought made her smile. Realizing that, she was relieved that Edward took her in a dark office deep in the bowels of the hotel before meeting his parents. This would have been intolerable otherwise.

Especially with the fact that Carlisle was incredibly handsome. If she hadn't already known they were his foster parents she would have easily assumed they were his biological parents. Cause damn – the dude was fine - for an older man and all.

It didn't help when he clasped his hand in hers, brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Ms. Swan, you are an incredible violinist! We will invite you to perform at the next event."

It was embarrassing, being kissed by Carlisle right in front of Edward and his mother.

To which Esme chimed in, "Of course! Perhaps a few private performances, as well. Some of our functions are very small."

That left Bella stammering a nervous, "Thank you." She couldn't bring herself to say, "I'd love to." She didn't, the idea made her sick.

Carlisle - for a doctor, he looked incredibly young. Wavy blond hair groomed into a gentleman's style. Striking grey eyes. Pale, chiseled jaw and cheek bones.

Esme was no less. With a name like Esme she was expecting an older, more homely type. Maybe even with a shawl around her shoulders. You know, a cry back to the olden days. Esme was just as beautiful and striking as Carlisle. They were picturesque together.

Somehow Bella got through it. _Hey – what do you know!_

Of course, when the inevitable question came up of, 'Are you two officially together, now?' A furious, painful, humiliating flush smacked her in the face. _Together_ now had such a deep meaning. He fucked her till she passed out for heaven's sake. That's beyond _together._

Edward, though, wasn't deterred. "I finally worked up the courage to say hi before class one day."

_Ah – so he was talking about Bella to his parents before that._ Well, that seemed very Edwardly.

"Oh, isn't that just too sweet," Esme cooed while stroking Carlisle arm. "We had to listen-"

"Mom!" Edward jumped in, "Bella's been playing the violin since childhood…just like me and piano."

"Oh really, Dear, oh that's lovely. You two should play something together."

Edward perched his hands on Bella's shoulders, gently rubbing. The contact kept her nerves subdued. It got a little odd, though, when Carlisle gave a strange look to Edward and she swore she felt Edward shake his head no behind her. _What's that about?_

So the conversation moved along. Normal topics such as, 'What are you studying?' and 'How are your classes going.' – Business Management and Great. Which was true – this last week hadn't wrecked Bella's schooling beyond repair. Just some heavier studying was in order and she'd catch up, make up for it.

Again, Bella could swear she felt Edward communicating in silence to his father. As Bella turned her head to catch Edward's gaze Esme distracted her.

"So Bella," Esme prodded. "Edward told us you love to read. What are you interested in?"

Ah yes – this is the well-rehearsed answer that she normally gave. Nothing daunting here. It was fluid. Not really a lie, just not a _recent_ endeavor. "I read a lot of etymology and linguistics. It's actually quite interesting. I just finished a book called 'The Story of the English Language in 100 Words'…it's a must-read." All true – she finished it seven months ago.

Esme's eyebrows lifted in surprise, "I've read that book! Chloe, the co-founder of our charity, gave it to me. It was a joke-gift at Christmas. It seemed silly at first but it was very interesting. Whoever would have thought that 'what' was originally 'hwat'…_and_ Shakespearean."

Wow, never had that response before. Bella laughed, "Exactly, just out of the blue. Poof! My favorite is 'Blurb.' I'm envious of this. Just one day someone said 'hey, I want to make up a new word'…" Edward laughed in her ear. "…I tried doing that, making up my own word. My Mom just told me to stop. She said, "no one knows what you're trying to say, Bella" and that was that. Word-creationism isn't my thing, apparently."

"Oh, and your father?" Carlisle's eyes lit up. "We haven't-"

"Hey Bella." Edward cleared his throat while Bella, again, noted his rude habit of interrupting. "I think everyone's getting ready to head out."

Some friendly goodbyes and the evening was done.

~x~X~x~

The orchestra group split up. Some went to get Pizza, others for Italian. By the time Angela, Bella and Edward left the hotel it was twilight, and cold. Bella shrugged into her coat, willing it to be enough, but the silk of her skirt robbed all chance of being warm. The three of them picked up fast food to eat once on the road.

Edward draped his coat over Bella's shoulders. She found herself wishing he'd fuck her into that post-coital oblivion she experienced earlier. Because that was hot – and new. It would definitely warm her up. How did he even manage that? Maybe it was the lack of food in her system.

"What?" He asked, running his fingers along her blush-stained cheeks.

"Nothing."

Angela explained the fast food choice to Edward, "Bella refuses to spend more than $8.00 on food whenever we go out. She says it violates her Rules for Frugality."

He laughed, eyeing Bella.

"I like my pink-slime chicken nuggets, okay? They're good and addictive and, yes, they're cheap. I don't even buy books!"

"You don't buy books?"

Of course not, she shrugged. Angela laughed hysterically. "She's been that way since high school. Eddie, you remember how-"

"So! How does a McD nugget taste, anyway?"

Bella shot Edward a look – not over the nuggets – but what was now an _very _annoying habit of interrupting. There had to be a reason, and since her head was clearing, it started to eat at her. He had done it several times during the evening. Was he always like this? It was going to have to stop, soon.

"They smell repulsive!" Angela retorted, angering Bella who took a massive bite of a nugget to prove their bottomless heavenly nature.

"They're so tender and juicy and the flavor comes from the sauce." She took a sip of soda. "Don't you dare judge me!"

He laughed while finishing off his fries from Back Yard Burger. He argued that it was the superior fast food.

The truth, though, was that it was her mother's tradition for post-performance sustenance. When she started playing nuggets were her favorite thing. Now, they were rather gross. The memory, though, was what she clung to. Charlie, her father, even kept it up when she lived with him in Forks just before college started up. Performances, then, meant going to Port Angeles and other areas – always away.

Nuggets and a Dr Pepper after a performance was the only thing she could share with both of her parents. It was like a thread that kept them stitched together.

More friendly banter, talk about classes and the like. Edward was aiming for a degree in Computer Technology, which seemed fitting. During the entire ride Bella found that she couldn't keep away from Edward. Her something had to be in contact with his something – opting for her calf strung over his thighs after they ate.

He rubbed her muscles, tracing the tendons. "Your legs are amazing. Do you work out?"

"Uh…no?" She smiled. "It must be my tense habit."

Yep – all the hours spent nervously jittering her legs all over, trying to channel all the pent up energy away.

He massaged and rubbed, it was so relaxing she started to drift off to sleep. Getting back, saying bye to Edward. All that was all a fuzzy blur. She was so tired, he helped her into bed and out of her clothes.

~x~X~x~

The next day she was mindful to remember where she was, and that she had clothes on, before getting up. Her head felt much clearer, the week was officially fed and slept away. Finally! She stretched and mewed as she rolled over, eyeing the time, 10:22 am.

Sunday.

First thing was to check the calendar to make sure that there would be no surprise events and happenings, today. What she needed was nothing. A day of entirely nothing.

"Hah! Yeah right!" she chided her reflection in the mirror.

In the shower she reminisced the events of the day before, reliving every moment of their incredible sex in the dark. There was no need to cling to Rule Number One. _Next time - _she told herself – _next time we'll have the lights on_. No regrets, though, the dark made it just that much more intense.

Before leaving the bathroom after her shower she heard muffled voices drifting through the wall. A boy and a girl - Jessica and Tyler, probably. After checking in the mirror to ensure she was properly clad, she headed out for coffee.

Immediately she stopped short, it wasn't Tyler. It was Edward in a heated discussion with Angela.

"…I don't think it's right…" Angela argued.

"Well I don't know how to say it. I don't think she'd take it very well, do you? Come on, you're her best friend. She doesn't even-"

"Yes, but you _have_ to tell her," She went on. "I'm trying hard not to say anything but it's not easy. It almost slipped out already."

Silence.

"She's not goddamn stupid," Angela hissed at him. "You'll piss her off by not telling her. Today…you will tell her today or I will."

Silence.

"Eddie, don't you dare look at me like that."

The back door slammed.

_Who left?_

Bella slunk against the hallway wall, her heart racing - what was it with this week and wall slinking? Ang was right, too, the very thought of something serious enough to make Angela angry with him, which Bella wasn't being told, did start to make her quite agitated. One thing that bothered her to no end, especially after a week like this, was being intentionally kept out.

So – who left? Edward or Angela? If he left, she'd have to call him.

_Wait._ Did she have his number?

She sighed, no, she didn't. Damn. A car started up out-front. Panic set it – where did he live? What did he drive? Listening to the sound of the engine as it failed to turn over the first time she realized it was Angela who left.

In the hallway she took a moment to steel herself. In a few moments she'd walk out there, encourage him to have it out, and get it over with. Calmly. Calm. No need to get bent out of shape. He didn't make her feel bad about all her quirks and she wouldn't make him feel bad about…whatever this was. Except for the fact that there was something he wasn't telling her. He might feel bad about that.

Keep it simple.

Light a breezy.

"Morning, Sizzles," she chirped.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close for a chaste kiss. "Morning, back." He assessed her features. "Hey – nice outfit."

She glanced down to assess - shorts and a tank top. _Just checking._

_Coffee in cup, ignore the nerves, ignore the irritation. Light and breezy._

Otherwise, he sat silent at the table watching her, coffee mug in hand. She sat next to him and nudged his calf with her foot. Bella noted his outfit: he had gone back to his place and changed. Now wearing a white T-shirt with a logo and dark blue jeans, same boots. She cursed herself for still not having seen him naked. He felt divine, that was for sure. The faint glimpse she did see in the dim light was quite memorable.

"Angela was here. She came by to drop off your violin. We left it in the trunk last night." He furrowed his brow and watched the coffee shine with stillness.

A minute or two passed in silence, _any moment now_. This wasn't going to work. Her whole day with him was not going to be tainted by some sort of secretive crap. Sighing, she decided to just push it out there and get it over with. Swearing to herself that she'd maintain calm and not jump to conclusions. He never did – he was a good example to follow for this.

"So…what did Angela want? She didn't sound…happy slamming the door before she left."

He shrugged. "It's just that…" A sip. "Ok…You know…"

Watching him struggle over his words was rather painful. _Leave him to his own devices or fill him in that I'm not entirely dumb on this?_

He continued, flustered, "Bella, Where did you-"

_Fill him in, between now and ten minutes ago he hadn't figured out anything_. "Edward, I was coming down the hallway and heard the last bit of what you two were talking about. She gave you explicit instructions. You don't know how to say it…so just come out and say it. Cut to the quick."

A quiet chuckle, "Yeah, you're right. I'm just afraid of how you'll take it. I don't want to…you know…upset you or make you angry with me…or…You know?"

"You being all flummoxed is kind of cute early in the morning. Hard to reconcile the Sizzles Sex God versus this Shy Edward, here…I'm not emotionally fragile." She grinned ear to ear. "Now out with it, please. Tap into your alternate personality if that helps."

He sat contemplating _her_ coffee this time.

Giving her cup a jiggle she mused, "Yes, I like your line of thought, here. We can divine the foam in my mug for answers." She stared intently into her mug with dramatic flair.

His shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"I'd suggest we have awesome sex, again, and then you tell me while you're making me cum…but I'd likely be rendered mute and unable to speak, again. So maybe that won't work."

More laughter. He shook his head and finally looked at her, his expression between amusement and fear.

"No sex 'til after, then, that should be incentive enough." She nudged him, "Come on, I won't bite and if I get mad we can have our first official fight and _then_ awesome sex."

"Ok…that works for me. I like that option." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "So. Did you know that we…we sort of…" He frowned, "…you know! Hey! Isn't it cool…we went to the same high school!" Only, he didn't look thrilled…he looked sick and green.

Quickly, he looked away from her, completely away, around and out the window.

Her immediate response was a light, "_Yes, totally cool! I didn't know that. Small world, eh?_" Then it sort of filtered through her mind that if he went to high school with her – he _knew._ Everyone _knew._ Forks, Washington was as small as a small town could get. Everyone _fucking knew._

So – now what? He knew. Did it matter? That must have been the underlying issue, here. If it was anyone else the subject of attending the same high school or living in the same small shit town wouldn't have been a deal at all.

She thought about that for a few minutes. Did it matter, everyone knew. It was years ago and what was said and done was in the past. Of course he'd be nervous and afraid of saying something. She just couldn't bring herself to be upset with him over it. No, she was definitely not pissed.

This next part mattered a lot. She either had nothing to explain or everything to tell. "How much do you really know? The whole public story or the entire, real story behind it all?"

He cleared his throat and twisted back around in his seat, finally looking at her. Those beautiful copper eyes were glistening with unshed tears – and relief.

His response took her by surprise. He really was worried over it. A reassuring smile was given as comfort for his obvious misery regarding this whole situation.

"I know what really happened. My Dad, you know, was close to your Dad at the time…so I know what happened."

It was her turn to divine the foam in her coffee cup.

"I never told anyone," he explained, his tone hushed. "You need to know that. No one else knows."

Another reassuring smile, "You're much too sweet, you'd never do that."

She thought back to that night - how her need for a quick fuck led to being forced into it by two boys at a party New Year's Eve in the woods behind the school. How everyone being so drunk made it next to impossible to figure out who did what, she couldn't remember any details. Or faces. Names. Then the witch trial of a fiasco that ensued as her father Charlie, the police chief for the town, tried to work it out of everyone.

To him, every boy was a guilty sinner. To Bella's humiliation; his belief that his daughter was an intelligent, innocent angel was eroded further the deeper he dug. He was so disgusted that the distance between them couldn't have gotten any wider. That was the part that stayed quiet. Well, as quiet as possible. Eventually, things got out and around.

It was a rough few weeks, that's for sure. For Bella, things changed completely.

"Bella. That really shook everyone up, you know." He rubbed her arm. "Especially me."

More silence. Shook him up that she was the town slut? No – she sucked in a breath – she told herself she wouldn't jump to conclusions.

"Before that even happened I worried about you. I was afraid that the wrong guy would get too close and…I wish I did something. I wish I was stronger back then and…"

"Don't." Blaming himself for a situation she created, meanwhile, she didn't even know he existed, wasn't right at all. "Don't start." Shaking her head, admonishing the idea. "My Dad put himself through that and I don't want you to put yourself through it, too. We weren't even friends, then."

Taking in his eyes, how they glowed with morning light that illuminated the room through the window, it was such a simple thing, but so breathtaking.

He shrugged, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. "I told Angela."

That didn't fall into place. "What did you tell Angela?"

"That I had…feelings…for you." Another kiss. "Bella…I wanted to tell you but I didn't know how to talk to you about it. I didn't have the…the nerves to even say hi to you. Did you know that we sat next to each other in English class?"

Scowling, she struggled to remember, surely she couldn't have been that absorbed in her own little world. "No."

"Yeah…we sat next to each other the entire year. I use to borrow your pens, you'd get so pissed."

"Ah! You'd think I'd remember a wretched pen filcher." She kissed him on the cheek. "I have an affinity for office supplies, you know."

Edward's eyes lit up with amusement. "I was so nervous, you were always so beautiful and perfect. So smart. I struggled with my grades and you always had the right answer for everything. You're perfect and brilliant and I just felt like a worthless shit." He took a deep breath, laughing at memories.

He leaned over and kissed her back, warm and sweet. Her heart buttered over. His words raced through her mind.

"I'm glad you finally worked up the nerve, honestly. Took you long enough." She gasped, "Did Angela know this _entire_ time?"

He nodded. She shoved her mug away and stood, slinging her leg over his lap, straddling him in the seat.

"Gee. Way to go. She couldn't say, "hey, that hot Edward Cullen over there likes you. Like _likes you, likes you_." Oh wait, she wouldn't say that. That sounds more like Jessica than Angela. Ang would really be like, "I think Edward likes you, Bella." Yeah, that's her."

Hot, sensual hands grasped her hips as he rubbed her against his hard cock.

"I asked her not to." He kissed down her neck, scooting his chair away from the table. "I tried to get her to help me but I was just too afraid. I couldn't do it."

Drawing him into a deep, heated kiss, she could imagine that. Poor Edward, nervous and rattled. Too sweet and adorable for words. "I forgive you," She rasped out, breathing getting more and more difficult. The thrumming hum started up again. She threaded her hands through his hair.

"Seeing you yesterday morning…" He stood her up, "…was like a dream come true." He slipped her shorts and panties off, dropping them to the floor.

Her ass now perched on the edge of the table. Then, he just stare at her glistening sex and spread thighs until Bella shifted uncomfortably. In the light, she could see how he shifted from his shy Awkward Edward to Mr. Sizzles Name Properly Earned Edward. It was like peeling off a mask. Or putting one on? No, definitely taking it off. His shoulders squared a little, his jaw and eyes grew tight with thought.

"Damn, that's gorgeous." Tentatively, he reached out one hand to cup her mound, grazing her clit with his fingers. A look of absolute fascination on his face. Bella watching him as he watched himself explore her slick pussy with his fingers.

Lost in the tactile, hypnotized. Bella expected unease or embarrassment to take over at any moment, but it never did. No. It's like tunnel vision set in and everything else in the room faded away. It was just the two of them together somewhere in the ether.

His eyes caught hers, intense concentration and amazement etched into his features. With his eyes still on hers he slipped his fingers into her. The roughness of his skin and knuckles on her slick, smooth folds sent a shock of pleasure through her. Rendering her speechless again, her hands dug into the flesh of his neck. Usually she was in control when it came to intimacy. Her usual drive: always focused, in control. Not with him, though. No, it's like she surrendered the wheel. Or maybe he just took over entirely.

Looking between his hands and her eyes, he leaned in for a kiss. "Fuck, Bella. You _taste_ amazing. You _feel_ amazing." He groaned out as he pumped his fingers in and out a little faster. "Damn. I've wanted to do _this," _he curled his fingers over and over, drawing out another moan from her, "for so long. You have no idea."

His other arm wrapped around her back, holding her tight, "I use to sit at lunch time and watch you eat." His voice becoming more husky as he drifted with thought. "Laughing with your friends. I always wanted to walk over there and just sit you on the table and do this to you." He whispered in her ear, going faster, "With everyone watching."

_Fuck. _Her breath hitched. She didn't have the mind to think into that too deep.

His voice as deep and tense as it ran through her body with each pulse in her veins. "Yesterday…I _always_ wanted to do that." his fingers moving faster. "I use to sit in my room with the lights off and imagine fucking you on my desk."

The dizziness started to fall over her, her legs spasmed lightly with ripples of numbness and electricity.

"I was always so envious of the other guys. I was always afraid that if I ever had the chance I'd never be as good as them."

That admission made her want to cry but she couldn't find the words to reassure him that he was so much better. There was no point, now, to her past at all. The words just wouldn't come.

"All this time of imagining _this_," he said just before sucking the flesh of her neck. "Was nothing compared to how you feel."

Letting her head fall back so he could give more kisses to her neck, she tried to say something like "fuck, that feels good" but it just came out as a garbled string of sounds.

"I can't believe you're really here and I'm now the one who can make you cum." He brought is mouth back to her ear, ghosting his lips over her earlobe. "You're mine," he growled out low and deep, sending a shiver down her flesh. "_Fuck._"

That was all she needed to go over the edge, like she was perched on the rim and then suddenly falling through the atmosphere.

Warm, firm arms wrapped around her, hugging her to him in a tight, comforting embrace. As the fuzziness faded away she felt her heart hammering loudly in her chest. The thrum under her skin was gone again, she felt complete. Like there was something wrong and Edward's touch could take it away.

She smiled, realizing that she had it all wrong. It wasn't from a lack of food, it was just Edward.

When Bella finally lifted her head from his shoulder she realized she was sitting on his lap again. That was something she could easily become accustomed to. He looked so satisfied and content just holding her. She had to look away, his eyes were too much.

With a dreamy glaze to her voice she pointed out that, "Your voice is incredible, too." Her body stiffened, oops, she had a roommate. Then she remembered a noise she heard. "My roomy didn't walk in, did she?"

Thoughtfully, he leaned his head back. "Jessica? I didn't help her out at all. She always had a crush on me, did you know? She might hate you now." He laughed at the expression on her face. "Yeah…now every time she looks at the table she's going to remember how I made you cum right when she walked into the kitchen."

_Oh God!_ Bella wanted to curl in with embarrassment, but that suddenly faded. She laughed, so long and loud it was painful, Edward joined in.

"That's ok. I came home from a fieldtrip early, sick, and puked all over the floor when I walked in and found her giving some guy head in the living room."

He swatted her thigh. "Yep. I was right to call you Buckeye. Lethal."

They fell into another deep kiss.

A thrilled smile was on his face when they pulled away. "Breakfast?"


	7. Chapter 7: Chatterbox

**[Revised 7/5/2013]**

* * *

**Jezabella; Chapter 7 – Chatterbox**

* * *

So much effort was put into it: pleading, prodding and stroking her soft flesh all to get her to say yes to letting him watch it. So there they were, watching the video she made for class. He gave criticism and commentary throughout, not much caught her attention.

"You have no reason to be embarrassed over this…you did an incredible job," Edward explained as he watched the video for the third time.

Bella was busy melting into his arms that were firmly wrapped around her, half listening to what he was saying. In her mind she played through the craziness of the week: how it started with her nose in a digital book, a few off days, and now Mr. Sizzles was sitting at her desk. How in the hell?

He went on, repeating his points again, "The editing is smooth. Transitions are well timed with the music and the photo and video selections go with the lyrics. Technically…it's awesome."

She curled her fingers through his chest hair and traced the outline of his defined pecks with her fingers. Muscled – yes. Quite a bit of time was spent trying to imagine what he looked like underneath all of that winter clothing and there he was. Chiseled, taut, firm, and overall very pleasant.

At the communal desk, on the communal chair, in the communal living room.

"Content wise," his voice dropped, warm breath ghosted over her cheek as she spoke to her, "It was nothing but a turn on."

That made her laugh, she looked up at him to gauge his response. Was he really turned on in class? Was that a good or a bad thing?

_Duh – a good thing!_ She chastised herself for being so stupid.

"That's the problem right there," Bella pointed out. "I didn't want other people to _see_ that. I was so petrified that he showed it and prayed that I could just die right there."

His gave her a concerned look, his forehead creased.

"Really, I was wishing that God would smite me or I'd melt to death or something. It was excruciating."

He rubbed her back vigorously, kissing her forehead again and again. Looking at her eyes, nose, mouth, he then smiled, "Yeah, you were so embarrassed and beet-red, it was adorable. He really put you on the spot by talking to you about it and not just moving on. What was going on in your head when you changed, though? I could see the difference coming on, what were you thinking?"

For that she sat up, wondering whether she should tell or not. It was so absurd, now. Well not really. It wasn't. It got her through it and she found it so rewarding she had fallen back on it several times since then. Yet, it was so unbelievably fucking stupid.

"What? Is it that bad?" He laughed at her apparent dilemma.

"I'll tell you…but it's really just so stupid."

"No it's not, not if it helped you get through it. You went from plotting your demise to being quite confident. It was rather sexy. In fact, it was the first time since high school that I saw that side of you come out at all."

_Awe – damn._

Bella frowned, he really did have his eyes on her. He saw her shift in high school after That New Year's. Meanwhile, she was so oblivious to his existence. That wasn't right.

"Ok. See," now it was her turn to stumble over her words, "There's a book I like called 'Power Play'…it's about this boss who…well…ok she like was a secretary and then became the boss…" _Ack_ – no way in hell she could say it. Her skin was already uncomfortably heated and it was only getting worse. Saying it out loud just jaded the whole thing.

"I already know what kind of books you read, that's no big deal to me. So obviously it's one of those."

She nodded, "Ok…so that's half of it." Sighing and looking away from him, back to the video - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, again. "She becomes sort of a dominant with her professional assistant. So I thought of her and what she might do in that situation in class. I figured she'd face it head on and handle it regardless of her nervous feelings about it, 'cause she's a tough little bitch like that."

He groaned in her ear, "What was the title, 'Power Play'?"

She nodded, words be damned. She just confessed to using an erotica character to get through a humiliating experience to her boyfriend.

Twilight Zone.

There was no way on earth he'd still want to be with her if he knew half the shit that went on inside her head.

"…that sort of thing?"

_What?_

She snapped out of her haze and looked up at him. "What?"

"What were you just thinking, right now?"

She shook her head no. Too many confessions for one week with him. He dug his fingers into her ribs, jolting her with a tickle.

"Quit it!" she hissed out between giggles.

"Tell me," he groaned into her ear as he drew out another laugh from tickling her waist.

"No."

"Why not?" More tickling.

Her cheeks were starting to hurt, "Because…one of these moments you'll realize…I'm just a fuckheaded spaztastic idiot and wake the fuck up."

Edward stopped, sitting still while she calmed down from the sudden attack.

His look was serious and intense, his eyes narrowed and his jaw jutted forward slightly. "No, you're not."

"I'm a sex addict who gets off on erotica to avoid needing it from people. I'm a fucking freak." Shrugging, she sat straight in his lap and looked away from him. "At least I know I'm fucked up. I know everyone thinks it, too, even without knowing _that_ about me."

"I don't think that about you," he said while kissing her shoulder and neck. "I never have."

Silence - she believed him, but she didn't. It was all so strange to her, how he was with her. How he said he always liked her. It was all sudden and new, Bella didn't handle sudden and new very well. She felt like she was lost without a map.

Watching him stroke her arm with his fingers, she started to think about what those fingers had done earlier. How was he able to do so much?

"So, what were you really reading?"

"When?"

Grinning widely, he clarified, "When I finally talked to you."

"Oh…" Her brow scrunched as she tried to remember, it felt like so much time had passed. "Oh! I was reading my favorite book, actually." How could she have forgotten! Her eyes lit up. She could actually talk about this with someone. It felt liberating. "So obviously Stein is my favorite author. 'Restraint' is one of my favorites."

"Yeah, I saw the title when I was looking at other ones. So that's your favorite?"

"It's not even the sex, though." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before hopping off his lap and heading into the kitchen. "Even though no one can write a hot scene like Stein…She's all about the thought-process. All the crazy shit people think before, during and after. Even without all that, she's vivid, animated, and unbelievably realistic," she rattled on as she poured two cups of coffee. "I was actually reading my favorite scene, too."

Edward watched her with a smile still spread across his face as he joined her at the breakfast counter. He leaned into a ray of sunshine, arms crossed, head dropping just to the side.

She stopped talking suddenly, stared at him wide-eyed. "You look so incredible with the light in the morning." He did, the light glinting off his eyes, again, like a topaz opal nested in the desert. Shaking her head to refocus her thoughts she went on, "Yep, my favorite scene from that book is when Mallory first finds out that Artie doesn't hate her…he likes her. It's funny but really just super sweet."

They sipped their coffee, his eyes never leaving hers as she orchestrated the air to emphasize her words. "Humor. I need it. Erotica's fine without it but with it…it's just so real. I like it to be real, and not fantasy. Even when it is fantasy, you know?"

He nodded, taking another sip.

Caffeine was entirely unnecessary at this point, she was racing through her words, "Like 'The Horizon' you know? It's so stupid, honestly…but her descriptions and such. You can see it happening. They're there…it happened…they even dealt with prejudice. Then there's another one she wrote call 'Raw Heat' and it's set after a zombie apocalypse. Sounds so stupid, right? Her telling of it is just so believable, though. Of course it would happen like that. There's just no questioning her logic. She doesn't pepper her stories with bull crap details and junk. If it really happened that's just how it would have happened. There. Written."

Eyes lit with humor he asked, "When did you start reading stuff like that?"

Her thrilled demeanor fell flat. Shitty question. "Ah…just after That New Year's."

His amused look slipped when hers did. He frowned, watching the sunlight glint off his fingernails. "So it was like a substitute for the real thing?"

"A distraction, I guess. I felt horrible about how it affected my Dad. The entire town thought they knew what happened. Charlie didn't believe me, either. It didn't help we were all so drunk and I had been around a bit." Suddenly the coffee lost its appeal, she dumped it down the drain.

"Before _that_ even happened, in order to distract myself, I tried other things. I was addicted to Unreal Tournament and played the hell out of that. Then it lost its hold when I achieved Godlike status and created a bunch of my own maps and such. There really isn't anywhere else to go with the game once you've gone that far."

"What about other games? Like Halo or Resident Evil?"

The seriousness behind his question made her laugh. "Tried them all. My choice of game…Honestly, I like Unreal. The platform is smooth. The damn game always functioned like a well-oiled machine. I never had glitches and technical errors. The audio is top notch." Laughing at herself, she plowed on, "Well all that's secondary. I was hooked on the sexy-announcer's orgasmic voice."

One hand now in his pocket, the other resting on the counter, the serious look still etched onto his face. Then he shook his head at her when a smile touched his lips.

"You're so fucking sexy, Mr. Sizzles." Her declaration made him blush.

He quirked and eyebrow and looked her over dramatically. "Likewise, Madam Buckeye."

The nickname was a bit of a thrill. It was cute and only Edward's. She poured herself another cup.

"Bella?"

His serious tone made her stop stirring and look at him.

"Can I ask you something?"

Only his nervousness led her to avoid the classic retort of _you just did_. She smiled reassuringly. "Anything."

"You said something the other day that I've been wondering about." He looked at her, eyes expectant.

She nodded to encourage him to continue.

"Well…you mentioned it was something you can't turn off once it's been turned on." He traced the blotch of sunlight on the counter. "What did you mean by that?"

Ah – yes – the much avoided and never discussed sexual-addiction-affliction question. All too knowing of what it was, but never before did she have to say it out loud. No one else was in need-to-know status.

"I don't know how to explain it to where it makes sense…or…without you thinking I'm just totally off my rocker."

He reached over and rubbed his fingers on the back of her hand. Such a little thing but it made her heart ache. The sweetness was something she wasn't use to, never had before. Just like him opening the door for her and the White Knight moment that she still hadn't had the nerve to ask him about yet. Massaging her legs and all that stuff…

"It's like a pulse…like a current or something." She threaded her fingers through his. "It's hard to explain, really. It's an energy that builds up just under my skin. The video games, reading, my nervous leg-jittering. It's all an attempt to avoid it completely or channel it into something else." Laughter without humor followed. "Most of the time all that is a complete waste of effort. I'm better off if I just don't get into anything."

She looked up at him, wondering if she said too much or if it made sense at all. Fuck – she didn't know. He was looking into his mug, deep in thought.

"Does that make sense to you?"

He sat in silence for a minute before answering, "Yeah, it does. It's just that…is that why you had such strange week?" His eyes filled with concern and nervousness, "What with the whole 'Zombie Week' reference, fainting, and all that?"

"Yeah," Her voice came out hushed like she was confessing a sin. She felt like it, that was for certain. "Don't apologize, though. I don't want you to feel like you did something wrong because _you_ didn't."

"Do you still…you know…right now?"

Smiling at his shyness she explained, "No, not right now."

"Is it all the time…or…?"

"Ah, no. It's sexual tension so…you know," she shrugged. Awkward and strange, having sex versus talking about this aspect of it.

"So right now…?"

"No." Responding with a smile, she met his eyes. "Not right now."

"Oh." He frowned. "Not right now then?"

She puzzled over that for a moment before what he was getting at dawned on her. "I don't need that in order to, you know, have it." She abandoned her spot behind the counter to walk to his side. "Or want it. If that's what you're thinking."

Bringing her closer with one hand around her waist, the other hand grazed the flesh of her arm with his fingertips. Bella closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace. This was nice, being with him hadn't left her with any negatives. Unlike all the other times which were just to ease the tension, she always felt less of herself. Edward, though, made her feel – good.

She wrapped her arms around him, slipping her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Such soft, warm flesh. His heartbeat in her ear set a soothing rhythm. Relaxing against him, she felt like she could curl up in bed with him and take a nap.

When the door slammed against the wall she heard it this time. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to see Jessica standing in leggings and a frilly black and pink coat - oozing spite at her.

"Your _room!_" She spit out while stalking through the living room, tossing her purse and coat down angrily. "Ok? Is that so fucking…_difficult?_"

Flaring up nice and red again, Bella turned around and reached across for her cup of coffee. Edward's arms wrapped firmly around her waist, thumbs grazing the flesh of her stomach under her shirt. They booth watched Jessica with amusement as she poured herself a cup of coffee, hunted down a bagel and toasted it.

Silent tension, no words between anyone. Bella didn't know what to say. Jessica was obviously peeved. Edward was sending shocking waves down Bella's arm and back with each little kiss he gave to her neck.

Minutes later Jessica went to sit at the table, stopped short and eyed The Spot on the table with absolute disgust.

Edward's silent laughter jiggled through Bella with an unspoken 'told you so.'

Without meeting their eyes, Jessica left the room, bagel and coffee in hand. Leaving only a, "Fuck you guys," behind.

Bella grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him from the room, down the hall and into her bedroom. Closing and locking the door.

Reaching her arms up to grip his neck, she pulled him down to her for a kiss. "I can be in my room."

Tongues touching and tasting, she undid the snap and zipper of his pants with ease. Only, this wasn't like any other time. She knew that he cared for her and he knew that she didn't want him only for this. It felt right, for the first time it wasn't like a secret sin to want it.

Two intense orgasms on her part and she hadn't even seen him yet. Seemed unfair. With his pants pooled around his feet at the floor she quickly dropped to her knees. He really was so much more than any other guy she had ever been with. This – oral – is usually the first thing she does. Like there were steps to follow and this would be step number two.

She gripped the base of his cock and slowly stroked upward as she wrapped her lips around his head and slid over him. His hands tensed as he gripped her shoulders and she looked up to see the glorious sight of Edward in a sex induced haze – eyes half closed, lips parted. To add to that, he tasted divine on her tongue.

Using her hand to make up for where her mouth couldn't reach, she stroked him in a solid, quick, steady rhythm. She swirled her tongue around his head, licked his slit, and then took him in as far as she could. Over and over. Taking his entire length was something she was going to have to work on. A thrill ran through her every time the head of his cock slipped against the roof of her mouth. Her other hand clenching his thigh that was taut with the strain of standing while she worked him with her mouth.

"I'll cum if you don't stop," he hissed out through gritted teeth.

For the first time, that sounded amazing. She continued faster, looking up to see him leaning back against her dresser, his clothed chest rose and fell with rapid breathing.

Threading his hands through her hair, his grasp tightened as he tried to break her rhythm and get her to stop. She didn't want to.

"Bella, please, stop."

Refusing. No, she wouldn't stop until she finished him off. That's all she wanted, now, more than anything.

He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. She could see the intense pleasure in the tightness of his jaw and firm set of his mouth. Edward's eyes shimmered in the soft glow of light from her window, shifting between her eyes and the sight of his cock slipping between her lips. His body tensed, eyes closed, his jaw fell slack when he came.

A sight she hadn't imagined - he was magnificent when he was taken over by sensation. Picture perfect. His smooth skin and muscled physique tensed. Beads of sweat glistened on his biceps, neck and face, dampened his hair.

As she stood she lifted his shirt a little, kissing his abs. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Her compliment made his skin flare a delicious shade of burgundy, making her smile. How many times had he made her blush furiously without even knowing it? All she had to do was compliment his hot-ass looks to even the score.

Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her into a tight hug, tucked her head just under his chin. "It's actually a compliment coming from you."

"What?" She laughed with him. "No one else has said it or something? I find that impossible. You're like the statue of David only with a massive cock."

He shook with laughter at that, flinching as she skimmed her fingernails along his ass cheeks. "No. No one's said that without sounding like a leech."

"Oh, I'm of the non-leech persuasion, then?"

"Yes."

"I see, that's good. I like being in that category. It sounds quite desolate but in a good way. That means you're all mine as I have no non-leech competition. Which is fine because now that I know, I can just ward them off with salt."

His deep laugh rippled through her. "Salt is for snails."

"Is it?" Tickling his backside a little more. "What kills leeches, then?"

She retrieved her phone from the nightstand while he pulled his pants back on.

"Are you looking it up?"

"I hate not knowing shit." She pulled up her search engine and keyed in the question.

"Ah ha!" Waiving her phone in the air triumphantly she exclaimed, "I'm not acing all my classes for nothing." Bouncing back to him with the thrill of knowledge spurred her smile to widen. "Salt kills leeches. I was right!"

"Always so smart," he said while kissing her across the forehead. "I always loved that about you."

"Really?" she asked while stretching up to kiss his lips.

Kissing deeply, they made their way to her bed, she pushed him down so she could straddle his lap. Again taken by the roughness of his beard on her chin and the heat of him through the layers of fabric. He felt so good – so right. His tasty, rough, cinnamon tongue kiss.

She slipped her hands down to the hem of his shirt and yanked it up and off him. For the first time she was able to look at what she had already felt. His defined abs and firmly shaped pecks, smooth and strong. He shifted himself to lay back on her pillow sending a thrilling wave through her as she watched his muscles flex. Bella's eyes were still roaming his figure, his dark curly chest hairs scattered all over then trailing all the way down.

Once her hands went to the bottom of her shirt he sat up quickly, placing his hands on top of hers. Saying nothing, he shook his head, slowly peeling it off. His eyes wandered over her flesh as his fingers traced the lines of her collarbone and sternum, around her waist. His light touches made her shudder with the chills that ran down her spine.

Eyes wide, she watched with near shock as he leaned down and brought his lips to her breast and kissed her. He was perfect, so beautiful for a man. It made her nervous even though they already had sex. He already got her off. It felt like none of that had ever even happened. His mouth on her flesh was an assault on her senses. She felt like her skin was set afire, searing heat swept over her. It was all too much, in the dark it was overwhelming, but in the light of the day there was nothing between him and her. No mystery. It was dizzying.

The smooth and rough of his fingers as he grazed, cupped and nuzzled her breasts. The tickle of his hair on her cheek and chin, the bronze and gold highlights glinting in the sun.

Already panting and gasping for air she pushed him away, kissed him with passionate rage and greed. Greedy for his touch and taste. Mmm – the taste of his tongue on hers. Bella couldn't get enough, so she kept kissing, tasting and feeling his lips and tongue with hers. Not caring about the sounds she made or the thrumming under her skin, her hands gripped his back and shoulders, but it barely registered.

High on Edward.

So lost in the sensation of her mouth on his she almost didn't notice that they were laying down on her pillow, or that he had slipped his hand down to her waist and was trying to push her shorts down off her hips. Bella shifted just enough for him to slip them off, regretting that they had to break the intoxicating kiss to complete the task.

She really regretted the loss when he slipped down toward the end of the bed. It all seemed so crazed and senseless like she had loss all connection between her senses. Her mind was a soup of pleasure and nothing much else.

She wasn't ready, not at all ready for the feel of his warm, wet tongue on the lips of her hot slit. Rough smoothness stroked her over and over. An overload of sensation. Her muscles already twitched with heated numbness. She clawed at the pillow behind her head to dissipate the aching, painful heat. The thrumming energy under her skin becoming all-consuming and distracting. Finally dragging in a gasping lungful of air, the surge of oxygen made her head swim.

His hand on her thighs, the other reaching up to caress her breast, plucking her perked nipple with his thumb and forefinger. On the edge – entirely on the edge of coming but she couldn't quite get there. It wasn't enough and she was suddenly panicked to figure out why. Why wasn't it enough?

Shifting to bring his tongue to her clit, he lifted his eyes to hers, sliding his hand up her thigh before slipping his fingers into her wetness. She need to come, it was excruciating not to be able to. Her muscles were painfully tense from the continuous pulse that coursed through them. Electric.

Quickening his pace with this tongue and fingers, his eyes on hers the entire time. He twirled his tongue around and then laved her clit with the wide flat of his tongue in an intoxicating rhythm. She watched his muscles flex and strain with the effort, his hair falling to grace her belly, tickling her flesh. Bella was on the edge of getting lost again when he stopped the attention his tongue was giving her clit.

A look of concern swept over his expression. "Bella?"

The vibration of his voice, the warmth of his breath as he spoke swept over her wetness. That did it, that was the crucial, missing element. A sharp, disorienting wave of piercing pleasure surged through her, over and over. It was all she could feel. It took over and assaulted all her senses, completely disconnecting herself from everything else. Again and again.

She opened her eyes to see him lying beside her. Propped up on his elbow, he stroked her stomach with his fingers.

"Are you ok? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Forehead puckered with worry.

In a moment she would be able to tell him no – and maybe explain the thing about his voice, but not just yet. Laying there and breathing was all she was able to do.

Another moment passed, her voice was thick and painful when she spoke. "No…it's just…needed…your voice."

His brow tensed before a look of understanding touched his face, he grinned. She laughed at herself. Of all the things – it seemed that the one thing she couldn't do without was Edward's voice coaxing her to orgasm.

"Now some of those stories I've read make a little more sense."

Soon, he was laughing with her as they wrapped up with each other on her too small bed, atop her purple covers and red sheets.


	8. Chapter 8: Crème

**Author's Preface Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing, following and favoriting. Life kind of got crazy for a few weeks - hubbs was able to come home for an entire week and then we were sick with pharyngitis (doesn't that sound just lovely). It was bizarre and nothing I want to repeat EVER again. . . so this chapter is short. I didn't want to keep you all waiting too much longer. Short is better than nothing (ahem!)**

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**Jezabella – Chapter 8 – Crème**

As they lay on the couch watching some random war movie he put in she was sucked into the amazing world of Edward's Little Nuances. Her legs slung over his lap, head propped up on the arm of the couch – perfect position for Edward Watching. Fuck the birds.

Each little nuance was highly noteworthy. She mentally catalogued all of them.

Nuance Number One – the sinful tongue dart. Briefly she considered if she should offer chapstick but not seeing him do it gave her The Sad so she declined. Guys shouldn't smell like cherry chapstick, anyway. Naturally. Everyone licks their lips but no one did it like Mr. Sizzles. That tongue. Such a simple thing, almost as mindless as blinking – he had no idea. No idea about his incredibly scandalous it was to watch his tongue dart out over his lips to wet them.

Nuance Number Two – the way he flicked his fingers over the cuticle of his thumbnail. Always with the left hand, never with his right. He'd do it in a languid pattern – first, second, third, fourth – and then repeat. It was so much like the sinful nature of the tongue dart. Of course – anything that drew her attention to Mr. Sizzles' Fabulous Fingers definitely earned praise and a few gold stars.

So on. So forth.

Crème de la crème, though – and the last straw – Nuance Number Three. When he picked up his glass of soda, took a long sinfully sexy drink, swallowed, and then set it back down on the coffee table. Only to wipe the cold wetness from his hand onto his jeans. When the frigid cold of his thumb grazed her calf she couldn't hold off anymore – she promised herself she'd be hands-off the entire 93 minutes but it was impossible. The image suddenly spawned a pool of sour tang that ran down her throat, causing her to shudder violently.

Happy failure.

She was on his lap straddling him so fast his hand was trapped under her thigh. Her other foot was caught up between the cushions and wretched with pain but she couldn't force herself to care. Blue jean and leather cushion rubbed together with a dragging gripping slick sound.

Mouth candy.

His lips and tongue were chilled from the icy sticky sweetness and tasted like spiced soda. Conceived by cinnamon sticks. That was the only way she could reconcile how he always tasted like a fireball candy only now glazed over with acidic syrupy goodness that was Dr. Pepper.

He shifted on the couch, scooting down, gripping and rubbing her ass with his hands. Effectively grinding his hard cock against her. She was so wet it was almost offensive.

Bella reasoned that it was all his fault _this time_. Mr. Scrumdiddlyumptious. What was the most fun thing about candy bars? You know the delicious goodness that's underneath – all you have to do is unwrap it and then sink your teeth in.

That's exactly what she did. Breaking away from his mouth just long enough to grip the hem of his shirt and peel it off. Fingers and hands racing to paw at his hair and flesh – back to the kissing. His guttural moan vibrating through her chest.

She wondered why they had even bothered trying to watch a movie. Seemed entirely pointless.

Gripping his hands under her ass - he stood with her arms and legs wrapped around him. Adhered to his flesh. He carried her this time – no hasty need to guide her down halls and upstairs into darkness. Moments later they were in her room, door once again shut. So convenient – this apartment thing.

Bedsprings gave way as he laid her down in the center and climbed on the bed with her. Settling between her legs, holding himself off of her with his forearms firmly to either side of her. Fingers played with the waves of her hair. Lips and tongues meeting again.

She drew out a deep, intoxicating groaning grunt from his throat as she lightly scratched the tender flesh of his sides and back with her fingernails.

_Fuck._

She did it again – he groaned and his hips bucked in response, grinding his jean clad cock against her. Perhaps banning the wearing of thick jeans would be a necessity. Maybe only silk and tattered cotton would be permitted?

As their kiss deepened, tasting each other more and more, he groaned out, low and deep. A thrill chased through her veins, drowning out the pulsing hum of electricity that she felt. Mr. Sizzles was responsive. Heavens forbid she stop scratching at a time like this. As if he knew what she was thinking – before she could scratch at him again he grasped both of her arms and pried them from around his back.

Naughty Bella couldn't help but smile.

He kneeled between her legs and quickly pulled her shorts and panties off. One leg at a time. Making her wonder why they bothered to even put them back on.

Oh yes – roommate. It was quickly becoming a hazard to their sexlife. Jeans and roommates. Riotous.

Maybe she could bring a TV in her room? A mini fridge? Then they would never have to leave. A space heater, too, and they could just lounge naked like primitive beasts of sexual burden.

Standing quickly he shimmied his own jeans and boxers down and off. Strengthening her resolve to trap Edward in her room - naked forever. He was a fine specimen of a man. Muscled and masculine but soft and sweet at the same time. Tomorrow would suck. He'd have to hide his fine body under a coat.

Winter sucked.

She frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Laughing at her traveling thoughts, "I was thinking of tomorrow and how sad it will be to see you clothed."

Edward threw his head back with a deep laugh that had his whole body shaking – muscles tensing, flesh jutting - before crawling back onto the bed. Of all the things that should never be attractive were _insanely_ sexy when Edward did it. Naked shaking laughter had her liquefying to a hormonal puddle. She smiled at him, working her fingers into his hair and down around his shoulders as he settled between her legs, again.

All humor forgotten, though, as the warm flesh of his thighs met the heated skin of hers. The natural light filtering through her window shimmered from his eyes as if they were lit from inside. Brilliant and clear. Flecked and perfect. He rolled a condom on – never looking away from her.

He seemed so unreal like a phantom or a figment of her imagination. _"I can't believe you're really here…" _His words from earlier came back into her mind. Is this how he felt? Like she was a dream? Was it so much more intense for him?

Gasping with a shocked breath, her eyes few open wide as they locked onto his while he slowly sank his cock into her wet slit. Insanely sexy – the tense look of concentration, pleasure and amazement on his face. She could see it in his cheeks and forehead. Everything he did just enhanced all that he was.

It was a struggle for her to talk, her words were short and clipped between pants, "So. Fucking. Good." She wrapped her legs tighter around him, bringing him in closer to her. The sensation of slick, hot wet flesh against hot wet flesh had her eyes drifting closed. She forced them open, again, so she could look down at him.

His bared chest against her breasts. His muscles tensing and flexing as he worked himself into her with a steady rhythm. His heated breaths and moans whispering into her ear, sending a continuous stream of sharp pulses through her veins. Bella slid her hands down his back to grip his waist. To feel his movements. Flexed and taut.

Sweet God.

Edward slipped one arm behind the crook of her neck, putting all of his weight on it. Freeing the other – slowly chasing his fingers down her neck, over her breast to play with her nipple. Entirely deaf to her sounds, she was only aware of him. Where his hands and fingers were. His lips grazing her cheek and jaw with each thrust. She was lost in his rhythm, a steady, continuous wave of sex and flesh.

"You are so fucking perfect," He said in that low sexed voice of his. "It's indescribable…being inside you."

Edward arched his back to bring his mouth to hers for a kiss. A deep, sweet kiss that matched his slow, steady pulsing thrusts. Twirling his tongue around hers, tasting and touching.

As his driving rhythm increased so did the intensity of their kiss before he pulled away, returning his lips to her cheek. "This is so much more than I imagined it could be."

Bella closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of his sweat, the sound of his voice as it coursed through her. The natural musky scent of his flesh, the saltiness that now coated his skin. Lifting her chin just a little put her tongue in contact with his wet flesh. She kissed, bit and sucked at the meat of his chest.

"_Fuck…_" I hiss out, nipping lightly at her earlobe.

Smiling against his skin, through her lips she could feel the quickening of his pulse. Searing heat and the violent rhythm of his heart. Hypnotic.

Whispering something in her ear like, "…your perfect…" had her falling over the edge, again. She didn't fight it or even sense it coming this time. It was sudden, quick and powerful. It left her spinning and she laughed through the free-fall. He always made her feel like she had come completely undone. Unhinged.

She could feel his pace quicken. Crying out with a guttural grit as he came. The depth of his creamy baritone just reaching through her haze.

Next time, she swore to herself, she'd be aware enough to watch him come. She had been stepping out of things a little too much and she had enough of that.

Edward gave small, sweet kisses down her neck and across her shoulder as he slowly withdrew from her and settled on the bed. His arm sliding under her, she curling into his chest. Both breathing hard, hearts pounding out the post-coital staccato that eventually slowed.

"You feel so incredible…_like this_," He said as she nuzzled into his side, resting her head on his chest. Arms and legs tangled together.

For a moment Bella mused that they looked like one of those picturesque 'post-coital' renditions seen in modern art. She chased her fingers through the hair of his chest as he ran his fingers up and down her arm. It was just a shade darker than the hair on his head. Kind of cute.

Pleasant silence stretched on for a while. Bella relaxed as she listened to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. The heat that radiated from his skin warmed her while the sweat evaporating from her back sent a cold shiver through her.

"You're so warm and cozy."

His body shook with silent laughter as he squeezed her gently, "So are you."

Wriggling around in his arms, she reached up for a kiss.

With a welcoming groan his arms wrapped tightly around her, caressing her backside with his palms. "I love your ass, it's so…sweet."

_Sweet? Her ass was sweet? _She stopped the kiss, quirked an eyebrow and lifted herself up on one elbow to catch his expression. "Does my ass smell like a rose?"

"Sure thing, Love Dumpling."

She squealed with delight, "Oh my God!" Eyes lit up with excitement and disbelief, "You listen to Static X? No one listens to Static X around here!"

"Of course, always a fan."

"Who else?"

"Anything that's good. I'm not picky."

"Neither am I! Favorite band?" _Please be Type O Negative. Please be Type O Negative._

"Metallica."

Bella snorted. _Damnit!_ That's ok, though. Atypical male had some very typical male interests. War, Metallica. Did he like football, too? Oh – did he have a cheerleader fantasy she could play around with? Pom poms and – and – and whatever else goes with cheerleaders.

"Yours?" he asked with a smile.

"Type O Negative. When Peter died the world went with him." Frowning at herself, "He'd roll his eyes at me and call me names for being so sappy."

The squealing peal of the alarm on her nightstand went off: 7:12 pm. A knee jerk reaction - roll over quickly, whack at it repeatedly until it shut off.

"What's that for?"

"Stop the Stupor…weekends over. 7:12…preparations for hell begin." Sighing with frustration, "Yes…tomorrow's Monday."

She worked her way backwards into his embrace, he spooned against her, wrapping his arms around her, "Sadly, 'tis so. Where'd the day go?"

"Well I can't complain. The weekend went to smoking hot sex with the sexiest man ever to grace the earth." Giggling a little, "GQ called…they want their model back." She twisted in his arms to curl herself into his chest as he kissed the top of her head, "I'm not forking him over, though, I've found out his hidden talents."

Edward hummed in response while rubbing his firm, warm calves against hers, "Well, whoever he is I'm quite jealous. I didn't realize you were already taken."

Bella laughed with a sigh, "I'm so tired but too hungry to sleep…I need to put a microwave in my room."

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**A/N: So obviously it's still Sunday in Bella's little world - the next chapter will be Monday . . . I promise! And it will be longer - OMG! Thanks, again, for reading :) Love it - hate it - let me know!**

**2nd A/N: Thanks to Angela who drew my attention to the lack of clarity in the first chapter, the classroom scene, referring to Bella being called "Mrs Swan" - that moment was inspired by real-life events with my best friend. Her professor kept calling her Mrs all semester no matter how many times she explained she was never married...I added in a brief sentence to clarify that it was intentional and not a typo. My friend got a kick out of it being in this story :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Torpid

**Jezabella – Chapter 9 – Torpid**

It was COLD. The warmer weather over the weekend went barely noticed until it was gone. She took it for granted that she didn't need to sleep with a million blankets piled on her bed and several pairs of socks.

Well – she also had Edward.

Bella bounced on her toes and flexed her hands. Ponytail bobbing, teeth chattering. The moment she stopped moving the rubber of her shoes went rigid and icy.

Now – to end this misery – all she had to do was walk. The building was right there. Around the corner and down the small hill. In fact, to make the walk through the biting wind even shorter she could just cut through the math and science building that was now acting as a pretty sizable shield against the elements.

The idea only made her stomach churn.

Now why she was so nervous hadn't quite sorted itself out in her mind, yet. Reality was that the weekend seemed like a dream. A crazy, fucked up blissful sex filled dream. Today was Monday – dream was officially over. Would he actually be there?

No – that wasn't it. That wasn't her concern. She wasn't insane although she was certain some people would beg to differ.

_What would she do if he was there?_ What would they talk about? It's not like they could just throw down and fuck out in the courtyard.

Because of the cold, of course – not because she suddenly had inhibitions about that sort of thing. Oh, and Edward. He didn't seem too keen on public displays of debauchery.

No, she was definitely anxious over what they would talk about and what they'd do. 'Cause damnit if he wasn't alone. His sister was there with him. She already met his parents, they were really nice. Of course in public gatherings everyone's nice so that didn't account for much. Still, meeting his sister put her on edge. It was a damned good way to ruin the bliss. Like smacking her in the face with the apostolic wet noodle of reality.

So – what in the hell was she supposed to do?

She finally started walking.

Stopped.

Turned back around.

No – that wasn't going to work. She bounced some more on her feet, dancing in a small circle. Her backpack flapping against her frigid gluteus.

"Ok," She stopped the ridiculous bouncing dance of torpid indecision. "And we're walking." One long stride after another. Out in the courtyard, bracing as the wind slapped her face and tried to gnaw her nose off. As if the cold wasn't already a well-known fact of her morning.

What would normally be a quick, brisk walk now took an eternity. Curling into her coat, she tried to bury herself in warmth but was only met with obnoxious puffs of icy cold air that escaped down the back of her collar.

Pumping her legs faster, she lifted her head to try to balance out the cold puffs with fleeting warmth. That was pointless, though, when the cold air then molested her cleavage and left her chin and lips stinging and raw.

The winter sucked – all these years in the north and she still wasn't used to it.

Irritation grew as she eyed the front entrance. How long had she been walking? Shouldn't she have been there by now? The tall, narrowed Math and Science Building stood defiant against the pain of winter. Like a middle finger flipping her off.

She scowled, "Fucker!"

The sonofabitch said nothing.

Grunting with anger she huddled deeper into her coat and marched forward. It was even too damn cold to read a book. Odds are her phone wasn't even working anymore.

Eventually she arrived, battered and worn out. The harsh cold having sucked out all of her energy about thirty years ago – or well – thirty feet. Seemed like years.

Once inside she started her little toe jumpy dance thing to warm up. Backpack bopping her butt.

"Hey, Notes."

She stopped bouncing and turned towards the sound of his voice. "Notes?" She sucked in a deep breath, nerves tingling under her skin as his long, smooth steps drew him closer to her.

He shrugged under the concealment of his thick coat, "I thought I'd give you another nickname. No Notes?"

"No," Shaking her head with a laugh, "No Notes." Biting her lip, "Why are you giving me a new one. I liked the poisonous motif you had, there."

"Venom, viper, _fangs_." He smiled mischievously while he closed the last few feet. Wrapping his arm around her waist, hoisting her to him for a modest kiss.

"No leech, either," She added while placing a kiss at the curve of his jaw.

"No, of course no leech. You're of the non-leech persuasion, after all. Maybe I'll call you Salt?" He brought his lips to hers for another kiss.

"I think Angelina would not approve. No salt."

"Citrus?"

Screwing her eyebrow in confusion, "Why citrus?"

"That's what you taste like, you know. Like a citrus candy," He bent down to her ear, whispering softly, "Sweet and tangy on my tongue."

Shoving him away, ignoring the Edward inspired lemony tang that now pooled in her mouth. Her attempt at creating distance made him chuckle.

"Mmm. I like it when you squirm."

"I'm supposed to be meeting your sister. I can't be all turned on and fidgety when I do. _My God. _Have mercy, please."

He snapped his body straight, "Yes Ma'am." Turning towards the hall, slinking his hand into hers, "I'll tell you later how much of a turn on it is to hear you beg. Not now, though. I'll wait til later to tell you that."

She turned her face away from him to hide her painful blush, kissing his fingers that were now draped across her shoulder as he drew her closer to him. His pleasant warmth and those concealed divine abs.

"Onward to the sibling shall we go?"

Bella just nodded. Forgetting entirely how nervous she was. Sort of excited, now. Edward's playfulness put her at ease. He either knew her very well or he just happened to stumble onto something that worked to calm her. Or maybe it was just him? His touch, his kiss, his smell. His voice acted like a tease, though – exchanging nerves for lust.

Now she felt dirty - hopefully his sister wouldn't notice the faint pink to her cheeks that felt like it wouldn't go away.

The artwork in the Math and Science building was always her favorite. The dark architecturally inspired paintings and photography. The Athenian series was always neat to look at.

"Always liked this hallway. The arts cool." She pointed to her favorite; A collage in honor of the Greeks; abacuses, columns, sextants.

"The math in nature series on the third floor is mine." He explained. His voice echoing lightly off the walls and floor. "Especially neat; spirals in nature, symmetrical leaf patterns and the balan—"

"Oh my God! Hi!"

Bella was startled as a short, spindly, spritely sparrow of a girl sprinted in their direction. Spikey short dark hair impervious to the vertical bouncing assault. The mass of gems and silver chains around her neck sparkling and clinking. Grey skinny jeans and a frilly purple top. Like a living mannequin in a department store.

"I'm Alice." Her soprano voice virtually sang out as she bounced close to them, heels echoing in the hall. Just as Bella reached one foot back to take a step _away_ she was thrust forward as Alice's deceptively strong arms embraced her tightly.

"It's _so_ good to _finally_ meet you!"

Her enthusiasm was stunning, drowning out Bella's attempt to think clearly. "Yeah. I've heard so much about you, too." A wide eyed shocked smile anchored itself to her face. She glanced at Edward who was looking at Alice with the sweetest expression.

Like a big brother endeared to the younger sibling. Edward was the younger one, though. His size and calm collectiveness VS her buoyant and lively nature made it seem the other way around.

Alice nudged her shoulder with a spindly, strong finger. "So, you two are finally together? Hunh? We can be like sisters, you know?"

"Yeah…that's great." Alice's quick nature made up for Bella's less than verbose banter.

"Took him long enough, hunh?"

Bella just nodded, a smile ironed in place.

"Isn't he the sweetest? He's never had a serious girlfriend before so this is just _so_ awesome."

"Alice." Edward chided her. She fluttered her hand in his direction to shoo him away as he slipped his coat off and flung it over his shoulder.

"Alright you two. Stay out of the treetops. I'm off to class." Popping up on her toes she wrapped her arms around Edward's neck for a quick hug.

Just as quickly as she came – she left. The hall was silent again.

"Wow, Edward. She has…so much energy."

He laughed, his eyes warmed with affection, "She's like the fuel for the family engine."

"So I see." Turning to him, slipping her arms around his waist. "Now what?"

He bent down, pressing his nose into her hair. "Well, I have an essay I didn't finish so off to the computer lab?"

"What's it on?"

"Gender inequality in Medieval literature."

Pulling back to peer up at him, "Was that your choice?"

"Yeah. I…it was, sort of. It's for English Lit." He shrugged as he hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. That little movement drew her attention to his clothes – A black short sleeve V neck tee. Pale, soft faded blue-grey jeans and those fantastic boots he was so fond of wearing…

…He talked more about the artwork on the walls. Famous scientists throughout history…

She wasn't really listening. The contemplation of the boots was still under way. No need to be bashful about it. The boots set him off completely. The idea of him ever wearing tennis shoes seem wholly out of place. He was a boot guy.

Definitely a boot guy…

And he had the most insanely muscular legs, too. Usually jeans concealed and cloaked. These, though, weren't tight but they did hug those thighs. The paleness of the fabric highlighted the toned conditioning underneath.

"Do you work out?" She clapped a hand to her mouth as if she could shove the words back inside.

"Uh, yeah. I do."

She looked up, embarrassed, only to be caught off balance with his eyes. Those bright, alluring, eyes peering under her skin and deep into her soul. His jaw slacked just slightly, his hair bouncing a little with each step. His other arm drawn up clutching the coat collar that hung over his shoulder.

The beginning of a smile worked its way onto his lips.

Her heart took off, fluttering wildly. She could feel her skin flare and flame, tingling.

"Hey Edward. Did you get it finished?"

Bella turned her head to give an icy glare at the young gawky boy who had just interrupted what was the start of an illicit sex moment in the hallway of the school.

Fucking public, students and shit.

She cursed at him, that little prat. Wanting nothing more than to smack him. Who was he to just come up and interrupt them like that? With his pudgy little cheeks, black short hair and too bright white-white teeth? Hmm?

A deep breath to steady her nerves. They were in public after all that that's what public means. PEOPLE are around. It's not like they were actually going to be able to do anything. Every room on this floor was occupied. Not to forget the security cameras.

That's why god invented the WOODS. Which were closer now than they were last week.

She shook her head clear of the thought and then focused on the conversation. Trying to douse her animosity towards the poor guy. He didn't know.

That is just ok. It's just fine.

Her forehead now creased with concentration, trying to will her mind to let it go.

"…Yeah, no. Listen…" Edward had slunk one hand into his pocket, the other animating his words in the air. Whatever they were talking about it was important. "…that's not what you need to do. The next time…"

Ok so it wasn't THAT exciting. Instead, she watched his Adam's apple bob as he talked. At what point does a male develop and Adam's apple? Is that purely an adolescent thing and what purpose does it actually serve? Is that what truly makes the male voice so deep?

Though, now with his free hand animating the air. Shaping the invisible wafts of oxygen like it was clay or maybe wet sand under his fingers. He did look rather – handsome. Whatever they were talking about he obviously knew his stuff.

"…so that's what I think happened, then…"

She nodded her head in agreement, yes, because whatever he thought happened she was sure he was right. Whatever it was.

The unfortunate boy chimed in every now and then. With nothing containing any umph. No. He chimed in with 'unh-hunh' and 'yeah' punctuated with a crinkled brow and a steady head-nod 'yes'.

Active listening skills – Business Communications 101. Or earlier on in life depending on whether or not you paid attention to that sort of thing.

"…What do you think?"

You know, PAYING ATTENTION. What she should have been doing to the conversation at hand instead of contemplating Adam's Apples and the attractiveness of one Mr. Edward Cullen.

Her mind sort of did a hiccup thing as she realized that they were actually asking her what she thought – of what she didn't know.

"Sorry…I wasn't paying that much attention."

"About Socrates and whether he really existed."

She nodded. Yes – indeed. Was he real or was he not?

You know – who gives a shit?

"Does it matter?"

The boy quirked an eyebrow, shifting on his feet. "What do you mean _does it matter_. Of _course_ it matters."

"No, I don't think it does. Will whether he was real or not undo or override how anyone takes his knowledge and presented history?"

"Well…no. But that's not the point of figuring it out."

She nodded again, yes, this made so much sense. Was this really the conversation that was holding her up from spending quality time with Mr. Sizzles? "The point is to satisfy your curiosity by digging through the annals of a broken and partially document history. Though, let's face it, there's just as much evidence to support his existence as there is pretty much anyone else's. Debating it is moot. Maybe time would be better spent debating the existence of plebs and plebian societies?"

"Plebians?"

She nodded vigorously, letting her eyes roll skyward, "Yes, up until recently they were slang for shoe gunk but I prefer to think of the Plebs as a noble race."

To emphasize her pointless point she took a dramatic peek at the sole of her shoe.

"Perhaps maybe something more modern? Like's Europe's missing years post the Classical Era?"

What a way to wrap up a conversation – this socializing thing needed some work.

Moments later they were seated in the computer lab. Erik, erik. His name is Erik. She tried to file that away for future reference. No doubt it would be needed at some point like to maybe write him an apology for being a senseless bitch.

"We're you deep into that? Do you two discuss those things a lot?"

"Nope, it's all him. He's obcessed with it."

Then – of all the things – Edward blushed. A glorious tasty shade of fireball red.

The red of sin – she knew that shade. It was the same hue she took on most of the time just last week. "Philosophites and their fetishes."

He was laughing now, "A philosophite?"

"Yes – one who spends much too much time debating the bygone lives of philosophers as if nothing else has ever happened in the last 3000 years."

"Bella...you're adorable." He said between laughs, tears pooling in his eyes, "But you can't just make up words."

"Sure I can. I just did. Now I just need to define it properly and petition the Oxford English Dictionary. They took on _McJobs_. Philosophite sounds so much more noble. Like…it was a real word that was just…forgotten. It's sad, really. The dying of vocabulary."

He was doubled over with laughter by this point, trying to stifle it as not to disturb the loosely enforced peace of the comp lab.

The lab assistant started to walk their way, scowling at Edward, thick hands on hips.

Bella poked Edward in the side, "Focus now, Mr. Cullen. You have an essay to be written and when you have fun time flies."

Easier said than done.

He was a mere foot away. Radiating waves of passionate heat. Like ripples in the air. Leaning forward slightly, jaw tense, eyes tight with concentration. It would take so little to just reach a hand out, a fingertip, and then just barely brush his leg.

It would feel electric.

Oblivious to her internal predicament he sat - breathing, slowly in and out. His fingers stroking the keyboard, eliciting the muted twang of springs and plastics. Pausing his keystrokes to run the fleshy pad of his thumb over his fingernails with his favorite little rhythm. One, two, three, four. Then raising that same hand to his lips, running his nails across the smoothed, plump flesh.

That soured tang began to build in her cheeks. Fingers itching for contact. She tried to rub them together to dissipate the sensation but the sensitivity of her flesh only made it worse. Her foot now jiggling to channel away the building energy. It was all too much.

As the tang trickled down her throat she jumped up, "I'll be right back." Spitting out the words with a little too much fervor as she headed for the door.

Stalking down the hallway towards the bathroom, hands shaking. Feeling like she was struggling to breath, struggling to function.

This was going to be hard. To be so close in such a casual way in public. Last week was bad enough. Now she knew what he tasted like. Fuck, what he looked like. Muscles tensed, firm hands gripping her sensitive flesh. Fuck – what he sounded like. Those little moans and groans, grunts and husky words.

The woods being out of question - no slinking off allowed. Mr. Sizzles seemed wholly opposed to the concept. Rules of Suppression from Zombie Week now being reestablished as Rules for Public Propriety.

Just him, close and so there but so far away - and his – his – fuck – his damned _appeal_. How in the hell was a guy ever made to be so fucking tasty?

No tasting? No kissing?

_No touching._

Just that voice. Oh God – that luscious, thick voice dripping with sexy vowels and attractive consonants. With its ability to set her skin on fire. Like a luxuriant verbal body cream.

Like torture.

Hypnotizing and inviting her to do all those things she wanted. She had done. They had done.

No!

_NOT_ in Computer Lab 121 when they were _supposed_ to be focusing on assignments and work and crap.

Who in the HELL does this routinely?

Leaning against the bathroom wall, she vaguely realized how gross her physical position was. Germs, bacteria. The ceramic tiles were no doubt teaming with life but all Bella could think about was how incredibly turned on she was…

And how that was so _totally_ not a good thing.

"Ok. I'm going back in and I'm going to focus. I can get _through_ the day without being a tramp."

Of course, Edward wouldn't think that of her – ever. But this wasn't his internal mullings, this was Madam Zombie's internal mullings. A shake of the hands to work out the tension before bumping the bathroom door open and heading back towards the lab.

Cursing herself for the sheen of sweat that had broken out across her skin. Physical signs of her internal struggle to cease and desist. Frantically wiping her moistened hot palms off on her jeans. Fanning her face with her hands hoping to disperse the telltale perspiration.

His look of concern was so syrupy sweet, she felt a pang of emotion pricking her eyes. How many times was he going to draw her to near tears over things like doors and polite worry?

"You okay?"

Her face felt like it was made of plastic as she smiled, nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Fine. Fine. Fine.

Fine can be a new mantra, here. A wholesome all around white lie. A fat, rotund little chubby fib.

Fine was born just last week to Bella. Never before had such an innocuous little word carried so much hidden meaning.

_To work. Focus. Things will be __**fine**__._

_I'll be __**fine**__ if I just focus._

_Everything will come around just __**fine**__ in the end, Dear, you'll see._

The last thought made her giggle just a little. It was from some kids movie she saw years ago but couldn't place it.

He pressed his forearm to the table, leaning towards her in that conspiratorial tone of his. Little folds in his shirt stretch across his defined chest. Tasty curled sprigs of hair peeking out from the collar, "What?"

As if he had no idea of just how fuckable he looked. Like a tooth decaying lolly but – hell – if she didn't give a shit about the dangers. She wanted a lick.

A long, wet, lick.

The look in his eyes only made her laugh louder. Him with his intrigued pose, narrowed eyes filled with humor and some other feeling – it only made her laugh louder..

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Of what?"

Swallowing thickly, throat muscles protesting. All the many things she could say. None seemed appropriate or sensible. References to the weekend, her intense attraction to him, the pangs and stabs of emotions – none of these things seemed like safe ground to toe.

"I really like Alice. She's…spritely."

With an amused grin he shifted in his seat, leaning away, one arm draped over the back of his chair. Mr. Casual a little. Tensing his expression just slightly, "No, that's not it," he coolyasually flaunted a finger towards her, "…but I won't be rude and pry."

Bella looked away quickly, fishing out a pen and notebook from her backpack. Concealing herself with this meaningless activity so he couldn't see the flaming red guilty blush on her cheeks.

Minutes later she was fully immersed in overused Falcon Allegories throughout the poetics. Fingers harshly rapping away at the keyboard. Pounding out vicious words like 'logorrhea' and 'sesquipedalian.' She needed a good juicy metaphor to pull this paper off, though.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

Her breath hitched at the sound of his voice. For a short while it was as if he really wasn't sitting there. Just a void off her to side. Vision tunneling to the screen and nowhere else.

"Um…," she suddenly couldn't remember what she needed to know, "…where were you born?"

"Is that what you were really going to ask me?" He was looking at her, leaning towards her ever so slightly. Sensing his posture shift, seeing him vaguely out of the corner of her eye. She just knew that looking at him would only screw up her progress at this focus/attention thing.

Eyes glued to the flashing cursor on the screen, "Yes."

"I was born in Chicago."

Fingers hammering away at the keys again, '…such is the more pleasantly used metaphor of the Windy City. The more descript underground of the creative Chicago underbelly is much like this oversized ball as it careens its way through journalism and the poetics of today.'

"This paper sucks but my teacher will think it's cute. I'll still win the bet."

"Bet?"

She did chance turning towards him this timefor that, trying not to get swept away in the landscape of his…

"Yes. Bet. I forgot to do my paper last week so I ended up in a bet with my partner that I couldn't crank out an 'A' paper before class this morning."

That adorable little sideways grin painted his features, "so So an reworked baseball analogy will pull that off for you?"

"You betcha. She loves that original out of the box creative thinking shit. The crazier I get the more she approves."

"I see." His eyes drifted back to his screen, tapping his first finger slowly against the laminated surface.

Satisfied with her successful attempt to face him without having sex as a constant undertone to her words she turned back to her work.

"Gotcha. So…" He whispered out, effectively breaking her newfound concentration, "Ssince last week wasn't all that great for you I was thinking that maybe today we could grab lunch?"

"Ah," she cast out a humored smile back at him, "Yes, I hear that lucid eating is the humane way to goproper way to do these things."

Quickly, he leaned towards her to give a little tender kiss to her cheek, "Yes, lucid eating. It's all the rage."

~x~X~x~

Truth be told – the horrendous odor of the chlorinated pool filling the dining hall always put her off of food every time she entered the door. Whoever had the idea of cramming the pool into the same building as the food court was an idiot.

A royal, noble, bawdy idiot with an 'L' for loser tattooed to his forehead.

She forgot that. It had been so long since she had come in here she entirely forgot why she habitually avoided it. The stinging, bitter bite shoving its way into her lungs was a painful reminder.

The court was always full, though. As if everyone else was oblivious to the foul odor and she was the only one who evolved a sense of smell. Her eyes peered down the long hall where the offensive stench emanated.

Her attempt to project hatred or bring down an unseen odor-block shield was halted when she felt hot, comforting fingers lace through hers.

Pool Spite could wait. There was an Edward to tend to.

Bending low to talk into her ear. The innocent reasoning for this was to be heard over the rolling tumult of hundreds of voices echoing off the walls. "What do you want?"

The muscles in her back tensed, setting lose like a spring. She jerked away from him as a shudder ran through her body. The nearness of his voice on flesh made her ear tingle. Having to fight for physical control, steadying her voice as she leaned towards him to answer back, "You choose." No denying that at this point of her day the ability to make sound decisions over serious things such as what food to eat was way beyond her.

That's some heavy thinking right there.

"Taco Bueno?" He quirked an eyebrow. Innocent.

_Really?_ She tried not to scowl at him. Tacos were the last thing she felt like holding in her hand and eating. The sexual innuendos were the least bit attractive. Watching Edward eat something like a burrito – no – that just wasn't going to happen.

"Or Backyard Burgers?"

Oh God Yes. Hamburgers. Thick, juicy meaty hamburgers with salty fries – some mayo and ketchup on the side. Oh Yes.

"That sounds great." It really did. She hadn't felt so enthused over eating food in…well…since they ate the crap food she had in her apartment the night before.

"Good, I can't wait to sink my teeth into their buns. So tasty. Usually I don't like too much fluff but theirs taste great."

She just sighed as they made their way through and around the clusters of students – this was going to be a long lunch. A long day.

Mondays are no longer Mundane, though. She smiled at that thought.

Too loud to talk, Bella trailed next to Edward with her hand gripping his. It occurred to her that this was just one of many firsts she would get to experience. It did feel – good – this holding hands and walking thing. It was these little things, she figured, that held so much appeal to everyone else.

These things were entirely normal. It was so simple and comfortable. They felt so natural. At this moment she didn't look any different than any other girl out there.

She could imagine her holding his hand like this anytime opportunity presented itself. Her pulse to his pulse, her flesh to his flesh. So connected yet so – appropriate for public. The 'holding hands' thing was so - Tame.

Then there was the 'standing in line' thing. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Her hands on his forearms, head nested in the warmth of his chest. Closing her eyes she just relaxed and took in the feeling of him being with her. His breaths, his heartbeat.

As she slowly opened her eyes she cataloged the 'jealous twat' thing when her gaze met a spiteful pair of bright baby blues. The owner of which was sneering, oozing viciousness like a seeping canker. Trying to singe flesh with her harpy evil eye. Lip curled in a sneer, eyes tight, cheeks drawn in.

What's a poor girl to do but glare back - and discreetly flip the bird?

Bella quickly tried to sort this out - was she receiving this contemptuous look because she was with Edward? Perhaps someone took the jam out of Ms. Vicious' donut? No – it was definitely because she was with Edward. That was the only thing that made some sort of sense. It was a bit comical, really.

After thinking it over for a few minute she really couldn't blame Ms. Vicious. Bella herself had a hard time keeping her wandering eyes from him. Hell, she could plea insanity to cover any illicit activities for the week prior, that's how distracting and all-encompassing he was.

Especially once your eyes landed on his boots and the messy way he left them artfully untied.

The thought made her smile.

If jealous harpies were a price to pay for being with Edward – bring it on. Because for however long this lasted they were together right now. Like hell she was going to let some little trollop ruin it.


	10. Chapter 10: Curiosity

**Jezabella – Chapter 10 - Curiosity**

The cold that had gripped her, freezing her fingers and biting at her toes, cooked away long ago. Her libido had boiled its way to the surface and broke through. Triumphant and bold. Right in the middle of class.

Well, perhaps that's a bit misleading. It actually happened the second she stepped around the corner. Leaving World Civ, Mr. Sizzles was waiting. Waiting with all that secret pent up sexual inspiration. Making her flush a fabulous, brilliant bright red. She felt like some sort of a beacon lit on a mountaintop to attract the eyes of all the other men. Edward would be her Strider.

Moments later she was trying to touch and kiss him with appropriate restraint. There were _eyes_ on them, beady little nosy eyes taking in their modest public display of affection. So much restraint under her fingers, behind her lips. If this is how things were going to be between them _on campus_ then this whole dating concept was going to be torture.

"Missed you, babe," His voice low and sweet in her ear only reaffirmed the promise of torture.

Closing her eyes, she imagined that the frantic hammering of her heart was telling enough. She missed him but not just the physical – not just the amazing sex and intense orgasms. She missed everything about him – his voice, the way his touch was exciting but soothing at the same time. How could you come to miss someone in the course of such a short amount of time? She glanced at her phone – only 55 minutes had gone by.

They walked hand-in-hand across campus. Pumping her legs quickly, she didn't want to slow him down too much. Her nose crinkled against the bite of frosty pine in the air.

He leaned close, "You ok?"

Nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine." When their eyes met she couldn't tamp down the happy little smile the broke out. Perky cheeks, gleaming eyes, "This is new. A good kind of new, though. I like it."

"So do I," He nudged against her playfully as they made their way to the strangely sculpted building that shot out into the sky like a cemented ode-to-snakes.

For the first time they walked up the ascending ramps together. Instead of slinking against the wall to peer around the corner she was thrilled to step onto the last landing with his warm hand twined with hers. Bella breathed in the musky scent of the cement and rotting leaves. Smiling when she realized that smell would always bring back memories of him. He was slowly claiming the whole campus with his stunning eyes and debonair style.

He held the door, she stretched up to kiss his cheek.

Again, she sat in class. _They_ sat in class. Mr. Sizzles now known as Edward Cullen her _boyfriend_. He was just right there. So close but she had to practice restraint. Restraint. Restraint.

She was not allowed to touch him. Heck, for the first time she felt like she was a little giggly girl in the fifth grade - the boy she had a crush on sitting next to her. She wanted to write a silly little note with something cutesy like, "Circle yes if you like me."

Bella couldn't help herself – peering slyly out of the corner of her eye at his boots. Just to see him, something of him. Christ, his laces splayed carelessly – one had flipped up along the crunched fabric of his jean-clad calf. Just as she let her eyes wander upward he shifted in his seat. His muscled thigh flexed against the tightness of his jeans. The tip of her ink pen dug through the paper as she bit down on her finger.

"Fuck," She hissed out quietly. Her illegible notes completely trashed, now, as ink leaked through the broken nib.

"Is there a problem, Mrs. Swan?" Professor Tillin asked.

There it was, that moment during which sexual frustration boiled over into a verbal stew.

"_Mister_ Tillin, I am not married. I have no ring on my finger," She shot her ring-finger into the air for emphasis, "I am _Miss._ Not _Misses._ I have no husband to go home to. We've had this discussion before. I'm not sure what it is about me but you're thoroughly under my-"

"_Miss._ Swan! I apologize," His voice dripping with as much irritation as hers, "I'm not sure why we keep having to repeat this same topic. I'll try harder."

"Thank you, Professor Tillin." She smiled in an effort to smooth this out though the irritation hadn't waned much, "We've had this discussion three times since the start of the semester. Perhaps we should strike a deal. I'll continue to call you Professor and you continue to call me Miss."

"Point taken…" With that he turned back to the blackboard, droning on about theater stigmas of the Catholic Church.

Briefly she looked at Edward, only to find him pale-faced and slacked jawed. Groaning in her mind, she made a note to avoid the marriage-topic while in presence of her boyfriend. Some things were now of a delicate subject matter, it seemed.

~x~X~x~

Barefoot, wearing classy sweats, Jessica stood in the doorway of Bella's room. Hands planted on her hips, face a brilliant lobster red, huffing through her nose. "For how much you _insisted_ on establishing ground rules it's amazing that you're now the one to break them."

"Really Jess, I'm not that bad." She tugged at the towel wrapped around her damp hair, shoving a few strands back inside. "At least he slept with his clothes on." This was true, Bella came home late from a performance a few months ago only to find Mike sprawled nude on the sofa.

Mike wasn't the only one. She giggled at the thought of Edward's facial expression when he tried to melt into the wall to escape her. So she was guilty of sleeping in the buff, apparently. Jess didn't seem to know this so it would remain a secret.

"It's not funny," Jessica aimed a finger at her, "The day after that you birthed a cow in the kitchen and went all Sheldon on my ass."

Bella laughed loudly, "I did not – I was more like a sheep and it was, perhaps, maybe a Leonard moment."

"Ew, and no. You wrote a contract! Which you are now in violation of, by the way. In several ways. For one," She counted out on her fingers, "You left your shoes in the living room. For another, he slept here overnight for three damned days," Waving three fingers on each hand for double-emphasis.

Bella rolled her eyes, "You don't even vacuum."

"Neither do you!"

"You're right, you're right, you're right," She held her hands up in defeat as she sat up. "I'll work it out with him. Don't you dare talk to him about it, at all, though. You know…that's my job."

Jessica sneered, "Yep, he's definitely your JOB."

Bella couldn't hide the blush that raced to her cheeks as memories of Edward's cock in her mouth came to mind. Something she did right where Jessica was standing.

Jessica groaned loudly, "Shit, you know what. I don't want to go there. I've seen enough!"

"You sure?"

"Fuck off!" Laughing loudly, "That's not in the contract, by the way, and it should be since someone other than me is finally getting some," She smiled wickedly.

"Har har. I'm amused."

"Yeah, that was good. So anyway. Pick your shoes and coat off the floor. I'll vacuum while you're gone, tonight."

"Yes Mommy!" Why Jessica suddenly gave-a-damn about the apartment's appearance Bella had no clue. Yet there she was being chastised for fitting in with the slobs.

"Your fucking rules, you know. Section 5, Subsection B or some shit."

"It's Subsection F" _What the hell?_

"F for get your Fucking shit up off the Floor so I can Fucking vacuum?"

"_Faaab-ulous!_"

The alarm on her clock sounded off. She looked at the LED readout, struggling to remember why it was scheduled to go off today. The performance was last week. Midterms are a month away. Homework is knocked out.

"Shit! I forgot!" Tossing the clock back onto the nightstand, she scrambled to the floor to find her clothes.

"Forgot what?" Jessica's voice echoed down the hallway.

"He can't come now!"

"Who?"

"You know who!" Now digging out shoes from under the bed.

"Tough titty, he's _your_ Daddy!"

One leg in her pants - Bella hopped to her dresser to toss a clean shirt on. She had so much she had to do before Charlie got here. The place had to get cleaned, work needed to be done in advance. She tried to slide her foot into the other pant leg but her toes hung up in the fabric of the knee. She kicked her leg to straighten out the length only to lose her balance and fall sideways. Skewering her hip on the corner of the opened drawer, "FUCK!" The spot stung and burned. "That shit's going to leave a bruise, dammit!" _Pants_ – thank heaven for pants to conceal such evidence of clumsiness.

Jessica popped her head in the door, "Don't leave your hair in the shower, this time."

Oh, right. The downside to long hair – it's always getting lost and turning up in places like the shower liners and other people's clothing. After the one incident with Jessica's lace blouse Bella's laundry day was permanently moved to Sunday.

~x~X~x~

He wrapped his hands around her shoulders, looking her in the eyes, "It's ok, it's not that big of a deal."

"Oh my God, Edward. It's a big deal. I mean like, _huge_. You have no idea how _huge_ this is. It's a huge deal. It really is."

"I've met your father before."

"Not as my _boyfriend_." She motioned wildly in the air, "Not only that, but not as my _intimate_ boyfriend. Ok? I've never had one of those. We've actually never done all the other stuff, really."

His face fell, he looked hurt, "I went with you to your performance, which was highly impressive."

"Yeah, but-"

"You even met my parents."

"Yeah, I know but-"

"We ate lunch together today."

Sighing with frustration, "I know, buuuut-"

"You met Alice. She's probably…never mind. Look, it's Nothing. We're even going out together tonight. So I meet your Dad as your boyfriend when he's here," He shrugged it off. Like it really was just no big deal. "He'll either threaten my life or like me. He knows my Dad. We're all from Forks and I didn't bash the mailbox in – that was Emmett."

"Yeah, but things are different now, though. This isn't high school and we _are_ together."

"It'll be fine, Eyes. It's not like he's a stranger to me. My Dad's still the doctor in town at the hospital. I swear, it'll be fine. We'll get along." He wrapped his arms around her to give a warm, comforting hug.

Bella buried her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him. Sniffing at him a few times, trying to place the new layer of scent that clung to his clothes. "Wow, why do you smell like ink and paper?"

"Oh, you like my new cologne?"

Pulling away from him to meet his eyes, "You _can't_ be serious."

His mouth dropped at the corners into a frown. "What, you don't like it? Does it really smell like ink?"

_Crap_, she just insulted him! Now was one of those 'does this make my butt look fat' moments. "No, it's just different." Squeezing him around the waist, "I like it."

He exhaled, relief in his eyes as they glinted in the dimly lit room, "Good, you had me worried. For a second there I thought that I just spent fifty on something that smells like my Dad's office."

"Fifty, really? On cologne?" The incredulous look on her face said it all.

"Yeah? Was that too much" Bringing his mouth to hers for a deeper kiss. He whispered in her ear, "I guess it's a good thing I'm just fucking with you, then?"

Giggling, "That's dirty. That really was. I had a whole 'what-have-I-done' moment with that."

"Did you fear for my psyche?"

"Yes, yes I did," Laughing while she took in the bright, shimmering flecks of green in his eyes, "I was going to call the psych squad to try to figure out what to do about the problem. Perhaps swap out the cologne for a better smelling one? Not to knock the glorious scent of ink and paper because I like that. I do, it appeals to the inner nerd in-"

He gripped her tightly, pulling her close for a deep kiss. Slipping his hand into the back pocket of her jeans. The other ran under the hem of her shirt, along the smooth curves of her side. His fingertips digging into her flesh just slightly. The stubble on his chin stinging her skin.

Bella was thrown back to their first kiss. How much she desperately needed him. So desperate for him it was painful. Her hands tightened around fistfuls of fabric. Tasting, like she was committing him to memory. She pushed against him, he stumbled into the coffee table.

"Tonight," He said in her ear, that delicious deep voice of his radiating in waves down her body, "I promise, _tonight._"

Groaning as she pressed herself closer to him, "That's unfair."

"Mmm, I know." He hummed into the soft flesh of her neck. "It's very unfair." Slowly drawing her earlobe into his mouth.

"Back to the subject of my cologne. Tell me about these." He traced the thin lines of the tattoo on her side with his while kissing the flesh of her shoulder.

"What, my ink?" She twisted her hip a little so he could bring her shirt up, exposing the tattoo that wrapped around her side. Three long sweeping lines inked into her flesh. Close together at one end, widening out at the top, each line topped off with a shell-like curl.

"Fern fronds," She explained, trying to not think too much about the meaning, the reason, the whys of that tattoo. Not now. Instead, she thought of how the day had already been a long bit of torture. Not being able to do anything other than snag the occasional kiss, grope and touch. She was now grinding herself against his jean clad clock.

Damned clothes – _again_.

"Without leaves?"

"Yeah," She bit at the meat of his chest through his shirt. Trying to push him over the edge. Always so together and in control until something triggers it and he loses it completely. She needed him to lose it completely. What was that damned trigger? He hissed when she licked away the sting of her bite just under his jaw. She gripped his ass with her hands.

"Does it mean something without them?" His voice was gritty and thick.

Well that certainly put a damper on her raging libido. "What's a fern without its leaves?" It was a struggle now to maintain a hormonal peak when having to think about such a heady subject. She settled for taking in the scent of his skin before stepping back. Shirt clutched in her hand, "See, the two outside are my parents," She traced the stems with her fingers, "I'm in the middle."

"That's kind of sad, Eyes."

"Yeah." _No crying, no crying._ She clenched her eyes shut and tried to switch her emotions off. This was the rarely broached but ever painful subject of her parents and the family she'd never have.

It was tiring, after all these years her parents were still on rocky ground. Her entire life they were just a broken family. She never expected them to get back together but neither of them ever really seemed to move on, either. Like they were frozen. No one had made any steps forward. Only a worn, painful, jagged wound that would never heal. The three of them were all just broken, stunted, crushed people.

He draped his arm lightly around her as they walked to his car.

"So, what about you? I know so little, tell me something."

"Well, earlier you asked me if I work out. I do, to play hockey," He gave her a peck on the cheek while opening her door. "I like long windy walks on the beach." He made his way around to the driver's seat, "Spaghetti that's cooked to al dente. Pizza with peperoni, pineapple, extra cheese, of course. War movies, preferably ones that have not been molested by Hollywood. I have a 3.78 average and I'm Majoring in Technology."

"Yeah, I remember that part. The pasta's good. My Dad would really approve of that. He likes his food." She grinned, laughing loudly, "He gets crabby when he's deprived. I'll definitely cook for you two when he's here."

"You cook?" One eyebrow shot up to his hairline.

Rolling her eyes, "Oh quit that, you know I do."

Edward reached out and brought her closer for another warm, deep, lusty kiss.

"You still won't tell me where we're going?" It was exasperating being with him sometimes. He was like a walking bottle of Spanish Fly – as if she needed any further assistance being uncomfortably turned on all the time.

"Nope, you'll like it, though."

Fiddling with the knobs on the stereo she found a good radio station. Though it was playing some new band she wasn't familiar with. "Jeesh, It feels like forever since I listened to music."

Giving her a confused look, "Why?"

Oh, no. She had enough soul-exposure. No need to tell him, yet again, just how twisted up she was over him. "Because everything I listen to is the Devil's Music." Raising her hand to her heart, "I tried to reform in order to _save_ my very soul."

"Oh, well that's too bad because I really wanted have sex tonight."

"Well, that actually brings me _closer_ to God. That ethereal plain. It's a sacred place."

He nodded thoughtfully while waiting for the light to change to green, "That does explain that rapturous expression you get on your face when I make you come."

Her mouth fell open in shock, "Mr. Sizzles!" They were going God-knows-where and here he was playing with her already nearly lost mind. Deprivation torture. "You can't do that. It's bad enough we have to wait '_til tonight_. Which," She motioned to the sky out the window, "It already is. See that darkness there? That's night time."

"All good things _come_ to girls who wait."

This felt like a challenge, "Maybe I don't want to be sweet with you? Maybe I want you to defile my heavenly body with your dirty ways."

He gave her that slinky slanted smile of his. Her heart melted a little more for him.

He really did have stunning features. Even the profile of his face in the streetlights was stunning. The soft curve just under his bottom lip. The pronounced jut of his jaw, but it wasn't too much. Then, oh, his eyebrows. They were just so perfectly balanced with his other features, dark and just so striking against his light skin.

Then there was Nuance Number Five – how he curled his fingers around the steering wheel. A half-touch, not a grip or a tight grasp. Just a smooth, cool curl with those magical fingers. They were perfect, really. Perfect for so many different things. Holding her hand, ruffling her hair. It was like they possessed some sort of magical powers because he could undo her with just the slightest touch.

Like what he was doing to her knee right now. Surely he meant it as a sweet, endearing gesture. With the way her mind had wandered it was like touching her bare skin with hot wax. She tensed, struggling to contain that familiar urge to shiver and shudder.

The tension built as she eyed his hand resting lightly on her leg. _Fuck_, did he have to go there? Did he realize how hard this was? How impossible it was for her to concentrate on anything else when she knew all too well what she was missing? Tonight, tonight, tonight. Later, later, later. They were like little threats and curse words.

She had to look away – out the window. The trees flashed by. They were out in the middle of nowhere. Glancing in the rearview she noted that no one else was around. They were entirely alone.

A sly smile spread along her lip. They didn't really have to wait, did they?

"Edward, pull over."

He snapped out of the driving trance he was in, "What's wrong, are you sick?"

"Just pull over."

A moment later they were off the road, in the grass.

First, she had to make sure that trying to do this wasn't going to ruin his plans. "Do we need to be at this particular place by a particular time?"

"No. Are you ok?" The look of deep concern on his face was just too adorable.

For a moment, though, she questioned whether she should do this or not. She couldn't honestly expect him to give into her anytime she was a little turned on. Maybe asking would be good. _Yeah,_ that was good – she encouraged herself. Communication, after all, was central to any good relationship.

Twisting in her seat, one leg hiked up, she leveled her eyes at him. "Edward, do you really want to wait until later?"

Edward drew his lower lip into his mouth and quickly turned away from her - looking down the road, over at the trees. Anywhere but at her. She couldn't see his expression, no way to judge what he was thinking. Immediately she regretted saying anything. Just like that first day on the bench she had gone too far and freaked him out.

Was it ever possible to just be normal? Normal people didn't make their boyfriend pull off on the side of the road for a quick fuck.

"Here?" He turned to her, but his expression was indecipherable. His tone gave nothing away. Able to look in his eyes and she was still in the dark.

Erring on the side of caution by siding with the regretful approach, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Let's go. We'll have a good time."

He tilted his head back, clenched his eyes closed.

She crossed a line, oh, and that was so hard to do with him, too. He was always so cool and casual and now she was attacking his boundaries for no good reason.

She straightened herself in her seat, looking out the front window. Rubbing her hands together, fighting the impulse to jitter her leg. It was such a strong impulse, too, like an achy need.

The leather of his seat rubbed against his jeans as he shifted. The sound of a wolf howling echoed in the distance. Her shaky breaths echoed in her ears. Bella wanted to kick herself for being so fucking stupid. So selfish. He was nothing but nice and sweet and lovely and then she had to go off and ruin a perfect fine evening with her lusty habits.

The door popped, making her jump in her seat. When she looked up at him his eyes were too dark to see. The moon and stars were hidden behind thick clouds. The smell of rain hung in the air. The engine was off – she hadn't even heard him do that much.

He stood there, starting at her through the curtain of night. One hand gripping the lip of the door. The other slipped inside his pocket.

She stepped out, one foot and then the other. Eyes never leaving his. Scared that he was upset or irritated. Her compulsive desire from her almost gone. She half expected some sort of debate or argument but instead he pressed his body against hers. Forcing her against the side of the car, damp cold soaked through the cotton of her top.

That divine taste, again. She could never get enough of his kiss. The way he pressed his tongue to hers in rhythm with the motion of his lips.

Bella couldn't shake the guilt that started to creep in. He hadn't wanted this. Was he giving in because he felt bad for her?

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, really. I shouldn't have sa-"

Another warm, rough kiss brought a whimpering groan from her. If he wasn't into it _that_ kiss made it nearly impossible to tell.

"You want to…in the woods?" He asked while gripping her hips tightly with his hands.

Bella's eyes shot to the wood line that was shrouded in darkness. Just a massive wall of blackness not too far away from where they were on the road. Here, at least, there was some amount of moonlight.

"Or right here?" He spun her around, pressing her tightly against the side of the car. One hand anchored against the rooftop with a harsh slicking sound as it ran through the dew. His other hand roughly gripping the fabric of her thigh. "Against my car?" He bit at her ear, sucking at the soft flesh of her neck. "Where anyone can see?" He ground his hard jean clad length against the small of her back.

No. Now that he had brought attention to their location none of it seemed entirely appealing. However turned on she was by his aggressive display of carnal desires - it wasn't enough to outshine the reasoning behind his hesitation. She shook her head no.

"Front seat?" His voice shot higher with a hopefulness. He wanted to. _Oh God_. Her guilt and hesitation melted away entirely - he wasn't just making a point or trying to get her to see some sort of reason why he said no.

Moments later she was straddling his lap in the back seat. Kissing him greedily, that rough delectable tongue and thick, full lips. Stubble scratching against her cheek and chin – that light sting that from anyone else would have been detestable. From Edward, though, it was a pleasant sensation. His strong, firm fingers pawing at the fabric of her shirt.

The risk of being seen on the roadside by a passerby with a wandering eye spiked the thrill of it. _Only if he wants it _- she chanted to herself over and over. Not wanting to be the selfish trout taking and taking. No – that is the last thing she wanted, now. The weekend was incredible but it focused everything on her.

There, roadside, for the first time in her years of seeking out sexual gratification from anyone who was willing - she only wanted to give. Take nothing, only wanting to focus all of her affections on him.

Clasping his hands in hers she pried his grip from the fabric of her shirt. He stilled – leaning back just slightly to look at her. The pale white moonlight streaming in through the skylight, glinting off his moist lips.

"Are you changing your mind?"

"Sort of. Lean back."

"Bella, you don't ha-"

"I said lean back," Her voice taking on a stern tone, chastising him for trying to redirect the new path her actions were taking.

While bringing her lips to his for a slow, lazy kiss she stretched their arms up – locking his fingers behind his head. Lips still in contact she drew down the zipper of his jeans. He lifted himself just enough to allow her to tug down the waistband of his jeans and boxers. Freeing his hard cock from the fabric, it sprang loose.

She watched him in the half-light as she stroked him with her hands. Long, firm strokes from base to tip. Wetting the length of his cock with each pass with dips of her tongue on his flesh. His eyes slid closed in a lust induced hazed as she worked him. Tightly, he gripped the fabric of the seat in his fists, his nails biting into the leather seats. His guttural grunts and gasps spurred her on.

As he came closer to orgasm his jaw tightened just slightly, his eyes hardened. Cheeks flared with a flaming red hue.

Between gritted teeth he hissed out, "I'll cum if you keep that up." A failed attempt to stop her efforts. It only encouraged her to go faster.

"Bella," He chastised, "Let me put a condom on, please." He was begging now, his muscles tensed – trying to postpone release.

Leaning back just a little she quickly picked a condom out of his back pocket. Tossed the foil aside after she unwrapped it, and rolled the condom onto his hard cock. It wasn't as easy as some guys made it look. Glancing at him, she caught the edges of a smug smile as he tried to hide a bit of amusement at her effort.

Raising herself off of his lap she watched, wide eyed, as he gripped his cock in one hand. His tendons taut, muscles flexing as he poised himself under her. Waiting for her. Another one of those things that only intense attraction between two people can turn into an erotic display. For a moment she toyed with the idea of him jacking himself off just so she could watch. His hot, moist hand gripping her thigh suddenly pushed that thought aside. Quickly, she shimmied her pants and panties down off her legs.

Hands on his shoulders she eased herself down onto him. The last bit of cold that surrounded them in the car suddenly evaporated. For the first time she set the rhythm. A measured pace – up, down, up, down.

Both hands on her hips, gripping her tightly. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his chest. With greedy eyes she took him in, how incredibly sexy he was like this. His legs braced tight, chest rising and falling quickly. His heart racing – she could see the pulse as blood coursed under his skin.

The smells of sweat, sex and Edward filled the air. Condensation built on the windows as their heated breaths clung to the glass. His sex-coated voice as he groaned out words of satisfaction. She catalogued all of these little things. Sexual nuances - little details of Bella-induced-pleasure.

Then, oh, finally – what she hadn't seen yet while being so wrapped up in her sexed-over cocoon. The tense expression of pleasure that overtook him. Face tight, near-pain but drowning in a delirious bath of hot fuckery. Between half-closed eyelids she could see as his eyes rolled back. His throat grew taut as he threw his head back.

Then the words, "Holy Fuck! Bella," shook the air. Sending a spiked thrill through her. It was like the cherry on a sex-topped ice-cream Sunday.

~x~X~x~

After their roadside rendezvous they were on their way, again. Sighing, she looked at him. Their sex-induced high slowly waning. Well, hers was – as she thought about the impending nightmare to come. Edward wasn't nervous about the looming doom of her father's visit at all. In fact, he looked to be quite comfortable. Her mind quickly overlooked the fact that he was incredibly comfortable all because of her backseat roadside antics.

"Aren't you nervous?"

"About what, Buckeye?" He reached out, stroking his fingers over her thigh.

"My Dad, of course."

He ruffled his hand through his hair, the streetlights glimmering off his glossy, bronze strands. "You really need to stop worrying about what your Dad will think of me. After everything that's happened don't you think he'd approve of you being in a balanced, normal relationship?"

She shrugged, turning away from him to look out the window. Watching the pulsing race of the streetlamps rush by. They were nearing the interstate.

Bella's past was not something she wanted to relive. In fact, _not_ wanting to relive it is why she hadn't taken much time to satisfy her curiosity about Edward. He knew her back then but she was needing a clean slate. Sometimes it seemed easier for her to imagine that he didn't know her back then. That they really just met.

"Bella. Can I ask you a question?"

Her stomach dropped. Beginning a conversation with that tone and statement never ended well. "Sure, Edward," She said, feeling nervous again. Unable to bring her eyes to meet his she watched his tendons flex as he maneuvered the stick shift.

He played hockey. _Fuck_, of course he played hockey. His hands were perfect for it. That explains the muscle definition of his thighs. They were like trunks of a splendid tree.

"You remember the other day when I told you we went to the same high school together. You asked me if I knew the real story or the public story?"

Panic, icy-cold, flooded through her veins. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry, "Yeah?" Her voice nothing but a hoarse whisper.

"There's something else that happened," His expression grew more tense as he stared intently at the road, "Something that you might not know about."

Her mind exploded in a frenzy of thoughts. Was it a bet? A set up? Planned? Photographed! Videotaped! _What! _Her panic couldn't be concealed behind her features, it started to show – to seep through her expression.

In fact, she looked absolutely petrified over the unknown implications of his statement. He sat, nervous, intently staring at the road. Lost in thought.

She screeched at him when his silence only made it worse, "The silence thing is _really_ not help." Maybe pointing it out would scoot this forward.

Edward's voice was far away when he asked, "You do know that your Father questioned _every_ kid in school about what happened?"

Sighing with a bit of relief, "Of course. He practically harassed everyone for months. I sort or regretted telling him anything after a while." Her voice seeped with irritation.

"Well, in all of that. He asked my Dad to help him. You know…to figure it out."

It was like a slap in the face, the implications of this weren't very savory. In fact, it was like swallowing a glass of denatured alcohol and then striking a match on her tongue.

Now it made sense – why he was the least bit concerned about meeting her Dad. Why he kept interrupted his father the other day when Charlie was mentioned.

They were all deep in some type of – friendship. She – like a blind little imp – was firmly seated in the dark.

* * *

**A/N: Yep - even this little old maid has had some backseat fun in the midnight sun :)**

**Another chapter for my faithful Jezabella readers. This one was written mostly on my iphone over spring break in Oklahoma. :) All in all - I still tried to work out any flaws and errors in spelling and formatting - etc . . . as you know I'm not a grammar nut so that all just slides in the way of fragmented sentences and hyphens gallore. I call it poetic emphasis and grammatical grace. . .And that's ok! Because it's really not me - It's Bella . . . she's the one who's a little off her rocker, here.**

**Thanks again for reading! I hope you're enjoying - let me know :)**


	11. Chapter 11: Simmering

**Jezabella – Chapter 11 – Simmering**

It was a sin to be upset with him. After stewing in this dark little pit she was dumped into, she knew it was a sin to be angry, irritated, frustrated, miffed.

She shouldn't be, she should extend courtesy and understanding because that's what he always did for her. There were secrets, though. Layers and layers of secrets. Thick, opaque, murky secrets. Her first official relationship of any solid sort and it was riddled with holes, pocked with blemishes. The hole she found herself in seemed to shrink and close in on her. There wasn't much in her life to go by, having parents who couldn't get along to save their souls and not a single serious relationship to her name.

It just felt wrong.

The compulsion to explain her sins, confess to him as if he was a Priest, was strong. "_You_, your Dad, my Dad and even Angela. Am I _missing_ something here? Why does this seem to be such a big, I don't know," she flung her hands into the air, exasperated, "a buddy _club_ that I am not a part of? Or, like it's something bad you're all working hard to keep from me? Because, it was one thing for _you_ to know but your _Dad_ knows. I mean, who the fuck hell else knows? The whole goddamn town? Just what do they know?"

_Everything_ - her mind screamed out at her - _everyone in town knows everything about me_. _There are no secrets in Forks_. That is why she swore to never step a foot back in that tiny, little crap town ever again. So help her, God – she wouldn't.

Overall, what did Edward _do?_ He was wrapped up in something, there was a reason for his hesitation, his silence. Her eyes widened as she considered that whatever _this_ was about, was what Angel and him were arguing about the other day.

Bella eyed him slyly. At the moment, he seemed like he was shrinking away from her and trying to hide inside the seat cushion.

A grunt rattled around in her throat. "Damnit, it's my life, so why am I shoved off into the dark corner of the room like I'm some sort of dejected invalid. You know, like the banjo kid off of Deliverance or some shit?"

With a sigh, she thumped her forehead against the window. There, it was out. Sins were aired, grievances filed.

Unfortunately, this new turn of events had doused her curiosity as to where they were going. They crossed the river and left the city lights a while ago. All of these things – this mess of unspoken and mysterious shit - had to be sorted out and discussed so it wouldn't ruin the entire evening.

Edward shifted gears as he pulled off the road, headlights casting an eerie glow over the timbers of forest when they made their way around a curve. The car came to a stop under the darkness of the woods. Surrounded by trees on all sides, they were entirely secluded.

Edward sat in silence for a few moments before he turned towards her. It was his turn to scold her, it seemed. She deserved it, she knew, though his tone wasn't scolding at all.

Inhaling a deep breath, he seemed to steady himself before speaking, "Angela and I have been friends since junior high school." His tone was tolerant and explanatory, as if she didn't grasp an obvious point. "_She and Alice_ got along really well. She's an honest, truthful, respectful _friend_ who doesn't go around behind other people's backs rattling out their secrets."

It was like slapping her with the paddle of truth right on her backside. She knew it was true and in her minutes of bitterness she tried to run Angela right into the ground with some sort of conspiracy theory. Her anger fizzled considerable, but not completely.

"Sorry! I know. Sorry…it's just," she lolled her head in his direction, "It's just a hard topic, ok? I ruined any hope for a regular relationship with my Dad when all Hell broke loose." Her hands animated wildly in the air. "He _freaked,_ he freaked and saw me for much more than I ever wanted him to know. My God, he couldn't have just read my _diary_? I mean…if I kept one…" Her voice faded away as the silliness of her statement rang through her mind. She was as easy to get to know as the back of the Devil's hand.

Edward watched her, eyes tensed with concentration as she talked.

His silence – did that mean it wasn't enough of an explanation, or that it didn't make sense? She continued in order to cover all the bases, "He honestly went around _questioning_ everyone in town about me. Where I went, who I saw, what I did. It was humiliating. So I just _avoid_ talking about it like it's the plague. Because really, that's what it all is. It's like a plague I brought on my family for being such a stupid fucking shit. And you?" she sucked in a deep breath, "You're actually unbelievably sweet, and wonderful, and here I am throwing all sorts of-"

Edward pressed his fingers to her mouth, "Quit. OK. _Just stop_." He yanked her hand into his, "Stop doing this whole, 'I ruined everything,' full circle routine. You're wrapped up in some sort of victim self-blaming mantra or something. You know, none of it was your fault. On top of that, _your_ Dad cares about you_._"

With a grunt, she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Bella," Edward roughed his hands through his hair as he clenched his eyes shut, "What irritated you just now? What are you rolling your eyes about?"

She glared at him, "My Dad does _not_ care about me after all of _that_. Maybe he _would_ have but I fucked it all up, didn't I?"

"Damn, babe," He pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked away from her - out the window. "Christ, you really can't talk about it, can you? You were _honestly_ rolling your eyes over what I said about your Dad?"

She scowled at the tree trunks just outside her door. The deep grooves and flaking bark was like an ocean of rippling wooden waves. Edward was not blind, was he? Of course not. He saw through her like she was a sheet of glass.

Shrewdly ignoring the _other_ topic at hand - the one she couldn't discuss, didn't want to discuss, he said he knew the truth about what happened, wasn't that good enough? In order to dig deep she would have to talk to Charlie. Talking to her father about anything was excruciating, such things took a considerable amount of patience. It took all sorts of prodding and badgering to get him to say what he was planning on doing for the holidays. If it wasn't about fishing then he was tight-lipped.

Then she thought about how that type of conversation might go. Would it be something like, _'Hey Dad, how was the fishing trip? Did you catch anything special for the ice chest? Speaking of cold fish, remember when you found out that your presumed virgin daughter was really a cheap floozy? Yeah, about that _– and he'd just look at her like she was the Devil _– You see, Dad, what you did in response was far more humiliating to me than what actually happened to me…'_ She snorted in response to that imagined conversation - how it would quickly take a nosedive and explode on the mountainside of bullshit.

"You're sitting there, pouring over all sorts of stuff in your head." Edward's voice was calm and soft, "Do you mind talking to me about it?" He nudged her shoulder.

She didn't respond, but only folded her hands across her lap.

"Is talking about it really that hard?"

Bella shrugged, struggling to shove her feelings back into a box. Right now – she wanted to bury her nose in a saucy book for a long time. It had been over a week since she read any Fine Art – a good dive into that fun one about Judy on the yacht would be wonderful right about now. Then, when the daffodils bloomed, she could bury her nose in those and get lost completely.

Maybe she'd move to Florida with her mother and cultivate flowers like stunning pink hymenocallis latofolia and brilliant blue stokesia laevis. They were beautiful last time she visited, a blanket of pink and blue against a backdrop of ocean water and warm sand.

Maybe she'd go home and practice her violin-

"What's going on in your head? Tell me, please."

Edward snatched her out of her thoughts. Her skin crawled, muscles tensed. No. Talking about it was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted it to wash away, flicker out like a snuffed candle. Just poof – _be gone!_

On top of that - the whole _'my boyfriend knows more about my issues than I do because'_ mystery aspect wasn't comforting. In fact, it was like a jack in the box, wasn't it? No matter how hard she tried to tamp it down as they sat in his car surrounded by trees and night - it just sprang back up.

"What exactly do you know that I don't? Shine some light."

When he answered, his voice mellowed out, taking on that soothing deep undertone she loved so much, "I'll tell you anything you want to know." Tugging gently at her shoulder, he tried to pry her away from the door. "Just one thing," he leveled his gaze, "You need to know that whatever happened was only because everyone was _concerned_ for you."

Cold air bit at her teeth when she sucked in a breath. _That_ was probably the most obnoxious line of dribble she ever heard. "I'm _sure_ that's what they thought," she said with a heavy dose of sarcasm worked into the words.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Seriously?" Her eyebrows shot up. As if she hadn't said enough.

"Yeah. Seriously."

Her words from the other day rattled around in her head _'you'll realize…I'm just a fuckheaded, spaztastic idiot and wake the fuck up.'_ Letting him in more was risking too much.

Filling her lungs with a deep breath, trying to blow out all of her tension. "I honestly don't know what to think. I just don't like being out of the loop. Because this is one pretty big fucking loop, you know."

"Why are you out of the loop?"

She looked at him, her expression smoothed out a little more than before. Fighting the urge to say something like, _'Because everyone shut me out'_ or, _'No one would listen.' _In that moment, though, she realized that no one had ever shut her out. No, Bella shut herself out. She buried herself in school, books, and video games instead of talking to anyone - about anything.

Even Angela only knew bits and pieces. That's all she could give her best friend, just measly bits of her friendship.

Of course, she was in denial of all this truth as soon as the thoughts raced through her mind.

"It doesn't matter. Let's not spend more time talking about this tonight."

Edward watched her in silence through the dim light of the moon. She avoided her eyes, the dashboard was suddenly very interesting. When interest in the intricate bump-map of its surface waned Bella listened to the rhythm of his steady breaths. Closing her eyes, she focused on the humming tension that radiated over her skin as each breath touched her flesh.

They sat in silence until Edward finally spoke, "You ready?"

She smiled, giving a slight nod.

"Ok," he touched his fingertips to her lips, "Are you sure?"

No, she wasn't sure at all. She was irritated, angry, stressed and tired of this topic.

To her surprise he got out of the car, stoking her curiosity again. As he strode to her door he shrugged on his coat.

"So," he asked as he held her door open, "What do you want to know?"

Scrunching her eyebrows together as she tried to figure out why they were getting out of the car in the middle of the woods. The cold in the air made her head fuzzy. "You said something happened that I might not know. Well, was that it? That my Dad questioned everyone in school?" Her raw emotions numbed over a little as they started walking away from the car. She was half paying attention to the issue at hand and half struggling to figure out what they were doing.

"I just don't want you to get angry with me," he was said with a pleading tone.

"Ok," she slipped her hand in his as they went. Their feet crunched on the pebbles. The winding path wound into the darkness like a ghostly, white ribbon just under a thin shroud.

He took a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to drink it in and quench his parched lungs. "After it happened, at first, your Dad just interviewed kids that were there, routine stuff. At some point along the way he was hurt somehow. He showed up at our house one weekend to get stitched up."

Well, that wasn't the start she expected.

"Apparently, the way he was going about the whole thing was a little unorthodox. I guess he didn't go to the doctor on duty at the hospital because he didn't want to have to file a report."

Bella only nodded her head, though the concept of her to-the-rules father doing anything out of bounds didn't gel at all. _That _was just not like Charlie. Maybe there was another explanation.

"So," he continued, "My Dad offered to help him out in his search for the truth, I guess you could say."

Hope was dashed, she was back to being confused, "Just what did he do, though?" Bella nervously ran the fingertips of one hand over her lips.

"I'm not entirely certain. I know he offered to help try to keep your Dad from getting hurt, or lose his job over what he was up to."

Edward, it seemed, was in the dark. Her conspiracy theory was being torn apart with every word. This was good. The tenseness in her shoulders began to fade as she let her guard down. Relaxing a little more when the smell of cedar and oak swirled through the air on a light breeze. The warmth from Edward's hand around hers made her palm sweat regardless of the cold.

In Forks the woods were daunting and eerie. Here, across the river and through the woods, this little patch of timbers were quite pleasant. The trees were smaller, the well-kept area around the lake made it inviting year round.

"Well, what did he do to get hurt?" Whatever it was, she could handle it. She _would_ handle it.

"I'm not too sure, but I think he went into someone's house to try to find evidence without a warrant."

"W_hat_!" _The fuck hell he did! _She stopped walking, images of her father pulling a Dexter was too much. Did he do it with little black gloves and a face mask? This was just too damn much for her to process. She struggled against logic and reason to imagine her father doing something so ridiculous.

"You promised you wouldn't get upset," he admonished, one finger pointing in her direction. His face screwed with a slight twinge of near-panic.

Bella forced her jaw closed. She had in mind that he didn't want _her_ to be upset with _him_, not her _Father._ Her father who broke the law, hurt himself, and then kept it all from her. Mr. 'Remember To Use Your Seatbelt…Don't You Want Me To Teach You How To Shoot A Firearm…Here Have Some Pepper Spray' was a rogue cop.

How utterly ridiculous.

Did he take bribes, too?

She shook the thought from her head. Infuriatingly unbelievable. He pulled – she dared to think it – but he pulled _An Isabella_. Doing something that shouldn't be done, getting hurt, and then hiding it to avoid trouble that would certainly follow.

"I'm not 100-percent sure, though," he said as they started walking again.

"You weren't involved in their conversation at all, were you?"

He grinned wide at the question, his cheeks rounding out with the smile. "No, I was a teenage kid, scared shitless, listening through the kitchen door."

Gasping, "My God, you _are_ a little, deviant, smarmy snoop, aren't you? You were spying on them, you little pen filcher."

He gave an airy laugh, his fingers sweeping through his hair, "Eavesdropping with a whiskey tumbler to my ear. Yes Ma'am."

"I should call you Mr. Sleuth instead of Mr. Sizzles. That nosy nature of yours is how _I_ got busted."

He snorted, "How did I bust you?"

"Yes, busted." Giggling through her fingers, "You're a nosy little bastard." She poked his shoulder, "You went and found my book fetish and everything."

"Oh is that what it is, a fetish?" He bumped her hip playfully with his.

The little edge of humor that image brought quickly vanished. She began to worry her fingertips again. "So they sort of, I don't know, talked about me, together?" Her stomach twisted, a permanent knot was forming. It was bad enough that her father knew all sorts of dark secrets about her past. Knowing that _Doctor Cullen_ knew about her was just nauseating.

"My Dad's not judging you either," his voice was shaky, "I know that's what you're worried about. It's not as bad as you think it is. You really seem to think you were some sort of freakish, whorish demon who brought it all on yourself. You're not, though. Teenagers have sex, Isabella."

She just shrugged off his words. It _was_ a big deal. A gargantuan deal that was so massive it sprouted spindly legs and roaming tentacles. It wasn't that she had sex, that was perfectly normal, it was that she worked herself up into a frenzy because she _needed_ it to function.

A gentle lapping of water on a shoreline wafted through the thick maze of trees. A frigid breeze brought with it the scent of bracken and damp soil. Had they left the city to come to the beach? She strained to hear it over the loud crunch of gravel underfoot.

"Where are we?"

"Lake Youngs. I like it, it's quiet. I thought it would be nice."

"At night?" She shot him a curious look. That made little sense. The park closed at eight and it was obviously long past then.

"Uh, yeah. My brother Emmett is the security guard for the water facility." Edward smiled, the brightness returning to his eyes, "He left the gate open for us. I just have to lock up after we leave."

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder he drew her close as they made their way to the secluded shoreline. The air grew slightly colder when the trees gave way. Stars and moon suddenly leapt into view, mirrored in the rippling waters of the lake - scattered peaks of creamy white on dark blue.

Hands clasped together, they walked side by side along the earthen path tamped into the shoreline. Stones skittered out form underfoot. The water lapped quietly at the pebbled slope - sloshing and splashing with ripples and miniature waves.

Nighttime at the lake was astonishing.

"It's wonderful, so surreal." Saying this in anything above a quiet, soft tone seemed sacrilegious. Almost as if she would violate the peace and be brought up on criminal charges if the water overheard. Of course, the fact that they shouldn't _be_ there added to her desire to keep her voice nearly inaudible. Technically, they were being troublesome punks committing a crime all for the sake of being together.

On a school night.

It was all Mr. Sleuth Sizzle's fault.

For obvious reasons, she began to feel a little nervous. The nerves grew as they followed the path out onto the jutting edge of a peninsula. Bella had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder and check to see if they were still alone. As they cleared the alcove and rounded to the furthest point an icy chill whipped through the air. She shrugged into her coat and wormed her way closer to his warm, welcoming body. Sweetly, his kissed the top of her head.

Charlie would have been peeved that they were someplace they shouldn't be. Maybe not, maybe he was just a troubled teen underneath that collect, law abiding demeanor of his - breaking into people's homes while they were at church. Or a funeral - that would be even worse – breaking into someone's home while the family was at a funeral.

"Are you sure it's ok for us to be here?" she asked, her voice a barely audible whisper.

Edward wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side. "It's ok, relax. My brother is Head of Security. He knows we're here."

The cold prickle of a shudder ran through her. The flesh of her arms tingled lightly with the last little wave of sensation just under the thickness of her coat.

"Here," He tugged her off to the grass a few steps away from the water's edge, letting go of her hand as he disappeared in into the wood line.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, trying to throw as much strength behind her words as possible without violating the quiet.

A moment later he came back, his hands wrapped around a large, billowy bundle of some sort. Thrusting his arms, he spread it out – a blanket.

Bella giggle, "Oh, you are too thorough. Keys and a blankie?"

He crouched with his forearms resting on the meat of his muscular thighs. The moonlight glinting off his eyes, now muted tones of grey. The night was too dark for color. "I thought it would be nice, you and me out here under the stars, Ms. Swan."

Her emotional state presented a dilemma. On one hand, what he intended on doing during their evening was obvious. She fidgeted nervous as she thought about it. His eyes were boring into hers, so sharp and vivid. This disturbed her because when was she ever nervous about sex?

On the other hand, there were a few things still gnawing at her raw emotions. Furrowing her brow, she bit at her lip as she tried to focus, to conjure up what was still eating away at her. It was fading away, though – the sour emotions running through her system were slowly evaporating.

It was his eyes, and how they seemed to look inside her twisted mind, so penetrating – she could hide nothing. Maybe it was how the ivory moonlight high overhead cast sumptuous shadows across his exposed neck. The darkness followed the curve of his collarbone and trailed down the exposed V of his neckline, then chased just lightly across his stomach.

Fuck. He looked incredible.

Edward perched on his feet as if he was ready to spring into action. She swallowed, then swallowed again. Breathing became a little more difficult, the cold night felt as if it was warming. Poised seductively on the edge of his toes, he never let his eyes stray from hers.

Slowly, his lips parted, upturning ever so slightly, as if he was fighting back a smile. In her mind she pleaded for him not to smile. For him to change his direction. Something that always seemed so fundamental to her now felt like a daunting, horrid, looming risk.

Her legs felt thick and heavy, like they suddenly weighed 500 pounds, she couldn't move. Not that she was trying to. She certainly couldn't breathe. Not now, not with him and the way he was looking at her. A cold tremor coursed through her limbs, she didn't stop it in time, it made her shudder violently.

Bella shifted her weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the tree line briefly. Memories of that New Year's Eve flashed through her mind, quick but clear. The fear, running, the darkness swallowing the path so she couldn't see.

Her voiced quivered, "We weren't done talking."

Oblivious to her inner struggle, he smiled. "Come on, sit, we'll talk if that's what you want."

She couldn't, though. The edge of the looming, dark forest felt like it was getting closer. It was twenty feet away but she needed more distance. Suddenly, the welcoming water behind her seemed like an unmovable wall, trapping her in. The gentle ripples of water on the rocky shore line grew louder.

He wasn't sitting, though. He was still perched on the balls of his feet as he was going to spring off the ground. His fingers falling open. Her eyes shot to the tree line, again. The frantic beating of her heart was nearing pain as it pounded too big and too loud in her ears.

Finally, she tore her eyes away so she could look down the shoreline. Her ears were ringing, she had to force words to come out of her throat. "Is that all?" she asked, desperately grappling at anything to distract her.

Not looking at the devilish, haunting woods behind her, she was finally able to turn away completely. Clenching her ice cold fingers into a fist, she struggled to figure out what was _wrong_ with her. Was it really the woods? Looking out across the lake, she felt nothing in regard to the opposite tree line. The water looked pleasant with a midnight blue, light touching on the peaks of the miniature waves. She didn't feel like it was creepy, with that oozing fuzz that she'd feel when she was stupid and watched a scary movie late at night – alone. The pine still smelled inviting, very inviting and crisp.

The sound of Edward's boots on the gravel behind her jarred her out of her thoughts. His warm hands slipped around her waist.

"No, I guess that's not all."

His arms made her feel secure. When confidence finally came back, she asked, "What else?"

He pressed his nose to her cheek. "My Dad asked me to try to figure out which one of the guys at school…" His voice dropped off.

That was not what she wanted to hear. There wasn't anything else he could have said?

A foul sharpness worked its way down her throat as she swallowed back her nerves, forcing the nettles of dread and prongs of anxiety down into her stomach. She didn't need him to finish that death sentence. The unsteady waiver in his voice said it all. If he completed that sentence she felt like she'd implode, or explode, or do something asylum worthy…

Like throw herself to the fucking ground and cry with wretched sobs.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly, and then did it again.

His muscles flexed against her as he stepped closer to her, closing the last bit of distance. Like an enveloping, sweet blanket - he was everywhere.

All she could say was, "I'm sorry." Her dry mouth and desiccated throat made it painful to breathe and form words. Her tongue felt like cotton. Though she didn't know what she was sorry for. That she had ruined their lovely evening he had planned? Perhaps she was apologizing for her father, who had turned him into a pawn in the 'Dig up Dirt on Isabella' game? Most assuredly, she was apologizing over the fact that Edward had fallen for a girl who was so fucked up.

If she could go back in time she'd be a nun. If she was a nun at a nunnery then none of this would have happened.

_Maybe tomorrow_ - she thought - _maybe I'll laugh at that thought tomorrow._

"I did it because I care about you." He kissed her neck, just above the collar of her coat. "You know I care about you, don't you?" he whispered in her ear, sending a slow drizzle of aching heat down her chest and across her shoulder.

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. It wasn't like before, though, it was warmer and calmer this time.

His hands slipped down to her hips, "I swear I do, more than anything."

A flutter of heat pulsed through her, rippling just under her skin. Her tongue began to feel wet, again. That familiar tang ran down her throat.

"I'm the one whose sorry," he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around her stomach, "Sorry I wasn't there to protect you. Sorry I couldn't help you when my Dad came to me and asked me to find the fuckers who raped you."

His words snapped out with a sharp edge.

He said it, out loud. Making it real, tangible. Giving it a name. A proper, crass, bold name that she couldn't put away. It was unmistakable. Clear and loud coming out of his mouth. There was no way to purge the air. She couldn't purge her ears of it. She wanted to. She wanted to take that word and box it back up, tape it shut and burn it. That word. Why did he have to say it. It rang out. It rattled and shook her like a Raggedy Anne doll with spindly legs and worthless feet.

He said it…

And there was no way to take any of it back.

~x~X~x~

All of Bella's attention was focused on_ not _crying. It took a considerable amount of effort to fight back the sting of tears. Every time she _tried_ to talk, her throat swelled shut.

She felt like a beaker in Biology class, filled to the brim with water. The meniscoidal surface so close to spilling over. Just one bump, one tap, one tip, and it would run over – down her cheeks. Numerous times she tried to turn to look at him, any part of him, but the tears threatened to spill over.

At least she was comfortable, God, was she ever comfortable. If it wasn't for her anxious emotional state she could have dozed off to sleep. Instead, they sat together on the blanket, looking at the water.

The forest no longer felt like it loomed as a demon in a scary tale. Coldness sank lower in the sky, it was visible in the dew that touched each blade of grass. Edward held her close to his chest as she sat curled up to his chest. Her ear over his heart. The rhythm sounding out like a soothing beat. Covered in her coat like it was a blanket, his warm hand on her back, lazily rubbing and stroking her through the thin cotton of her shirt.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to think of something else, anything else, other than _that word_ that he had the nerve to utter.

Like some sort of a silly child her mind began a rhyming game: tape, ape, cape, escape. Then it drifted off to similar-sounding words like a 5th grade anagram scrambler: reap, pare. Of course, there weren't very many of those. Fully derailed, her mind wandered off to contemplate other things such as what time it was, and that it was a school night.

Sighing, she shifted to sit up, wincing as she felt the stiffness in her muscles. The moon was high overhead, it had to be around 11.

Finally, she was able to look at him without fear of emotional repercussions. Tucking her legs under her, sitting back just enough so she could drink in his striking features. His eyes turned a dark, earthen brown with the muted light of night. The skin over his cheekbones was flawless and smooth. His stubble framed his face off nicely. On most men the look would be borderline piggish. Of course, Edward wasn't a hum drum everyday kind of guy.

Then, he was smiling. Just a small, unsure smile that didn't pierce the sadness in his eyes. She wasn't the only one dealing with emotional upheaval all night.

Slowly, he brought his hand up, reading her expression, seeking out permission to reach out and touch. She closed her eyes when he cupped her cheek with his hand, running his thumb along her lower lip.

In an instant, something shifted in the atmosphere between them. The nip of cold air evaporated the moist heat where his hand was.

Riddled with nerves, she dared to peek at him, afraid of the expression he was wearing. Was he upset, anxious to leave, working up the courage to tell her something_ else_ foul and painful on top of all that had been said?

"Are you ok?" She needed to just hear his voice again. Something. _Anything_. Somehow bring things back to normalcy for them, though what that was she didn't know. Normal, so far, had been him caring for her while she bumbled around in a daze post psycho week.

Too much time had gone by since he said anything. The emotional tug and pull had gone on for too long, she couldn't let the night end on a bleak, hollow note.

Edward's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, mouth opened just a little, as if he was going to say something, but didn't. The little worried V between his eyes deepened, his mouth fell at the corners. He didn't even do so much as blink.

"What's wrong?" she had to ask, she had to know.

He swallowed again, letting his eyes fall to her mouth.

"Bella…I…" his voice faded.

She waited anxiously to hear the rest, but the rest never came.

I – _what?_

Could be anything like, _'I don't think we should see each other, anymore.'_ No, he wouldn't say that, would he? Maybe he was going to say, _'Bella, I think it's time we head back, now.'_ But she didn't want to go, did she? No, she wanted to stay and rekindle the bit of passion that was lying dormant under the ash of the night.

The passion that she snuffed out because she had this amazing talent for doing exactly that. She was a snuffer.

Leaning towards her, slowly, cautiously. The lids of his eyes closed, his long lashes sweeping the high of his cheeks. Each time she took a breath she inhaled him, his breath, his scent. When at last he bridged the gap between them, and pressed his lips lightly to hers, it was like taking a wrecking ball to her poorly constructed, earthen, emotional damn.

Tears ran freely, she was powerless to stop it once it started. They rubbed off to his cheeks, left a chilled trail as they traveled down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. He tried to wipe them away with his finger as he brought both hands to her face, but it was pointless.

His hands were warm against her cold flesh, nearing intense heat. She couldn't hear the water or the wind in the trees. All she could hear was their breathing, intense and ragged.

She shifted, straddling his leg. First one, then the other as he brought his legs together underneath her. His grip tightened on her waist. Heat radiated out, warming her toes, warming her fingers. Tears felt hot as they poured over their flesh. The contact, the touching, it was too good to stop, she wouldn't stop just because the lock on her emotional box was ripped off.

It was hard to breathe as the tears choked her. The stiffness in her body melted away when his hands slid upward, under her shirt. Intense, living heat from his fingertips singed her flesh. She didn't feel the cold anymore - his warmth, his heat, overpowered all of it.

Edward could make it all go away.

* * *

**Author's Note: First, thank you so much for reading along, singing a song, and reviewing! Having followers and favoriteers (new word – I just invented it!) makes me feel all warm and fuzzy deep inside. So stick around – there's a lot more to come with our two favorite love birds. It'll end when I get to the end.**

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**The references list **(I need to go back and do this to all the chapters) I've put a lot of book and movie references in with dialogue and her inner thoughts but by the time I'm done with a chapter I don't think to make note of (shame on me!)

**I have tucked away in here lines from the Twilight Saga, of course** (if you're hardcore you'll recognize every single one) but there are a lot of other treasures in this story, too.

"**Hymenocallis Latofolia" (aka - The Spider Lily) **

"**Stokesia Laevis" – (aka – the Blue Danube)**

"…**a good dive into that fun one about Judy on the yacht…" – a reference to Charlotte Stein's book, ****Curve Ball****.**

"…**across the river and through the woods…" – a shout out to the childhood classic, Little Red Riding Hood. Which, in all due honesty, is one of the most f'd up stories to read to kids. Just sayin**


	12. Chapter 12: A minute

**Jezabella – Chapter Two – A Minute**

**Author's Note: I know this is long overdue – but I'm back at it! Sorry. Anyway – on with the Sizzles and Buckeye show ;)**

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Bella lay on her back with her feet perched on the wall above the head of her bed. It took a considerable amount of effort, but she was finally able to focus on reading. To her, it felt like a long time had passed she took the time to savor the written fine art. Now half-way through Reawakening, Blake, June and Jamie were mid their saucy threesome, "'Amazing. Like liquid silk…'"

She bit her lip to suppress a smile. That's exactly what Edward said about her the other day. As he worked her wet pussy with his mouth, deep and greedy, he said she felt like liquid silk on his tongue.

Giggling and smirking, she read how, "…Blake was sliding and sliding over her clit…," just like Edward had done. He teased her with the head of his cock on her swollen bud until she couldn't take it anymore and begged him to fuck her.

In her mind, though, she wasn't experiencing June's threesome with two different men. Instead, she was experiencing a threesome with two Edwards. Though it would take some sort of supernatural act to make that possible, it was a fantasy to entertain nonetheless. With how attentive her one Edward was, she was thrilled to imagine how attentive two Edwards would be.

The alarm on her phone interrupted her erotic focus. She had given herself four hours to read. Now that she had pushed herself back into erotica, she regretted it. She was a turned on, slippery, horny mess, and her father would be here in a few hours. Edward, though, was ordered to stay away.

The idea of having Charlie and Edward in a room together made her feel like a flaming-red harlot. She wasn't ready for the crazed scene of her rogue cop-father saying 'what are your intentions with my daughter' to the man who was under her skin and in her panties. To say that the tension which was soon to knock on her front door had her a bit uneasy would be an understatement. She was terrified.

It was never her intention to abstain from sex and Edward, though, she just couldn't tolerate the idea of engaging in illicit sexual activities before Charlie arrived. All sorts of paranoid thoughts raced through her mind. What if Charlie broke into her room and caught them in the middle of a quick fuck? Or came over early and found her sucking Edward's cock in the kitchen?

The last time the pair risked having sex was at Edward's apartment a few days ago. Bella couldn't tamp down the fear she felt while she was there. The thought of looking up at Edward's bedroom window to see her father's brooding, judgmental eyes staring at her kept her from enjoying their time together. She even had a nightmare and told Edward he had to sleep at his place. Of course, Edward was understanding and supportive. Nothing could ever crack through his sweet candy coating.

Bella groaned with frustration as she shifted in her bed. _Edward, Edward, Edward_ - he was all she could think of. Being away from him while her father came to visit probably didn't help. Instead, the distance made things worse, evidence by the soreness running up the calf of her left leg.

She tapped out of her book and resorted to texting. 'Hey Mr. Sizzles.'

A moment later he wrote back, 'Has the death bell tolled, yet?'

Laughing, she snorted through her nose. 'Clock hasn't struck zero.'

'Miss you. Two days is too long.'

She frowned, yes, two days was too long. 'Miss you too.'

Bella sat up to make her way to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. While rounding the corner she smiled, remembering how Edward was plastered against the wall while she strode through in her horrid nakedness.

Sitting at the table, she watched the curve of the spoon as it swirled through the foam. She thought of his attentive touches the other day, and how he wiped a drip of coffee from her chin with his thumb. Thinking about it made her heart ache.

Shaking her head, she told herself it was no big deal to be away from someone when you're dating. Normal people do it all the time. The plan was simple: a few days apart, her father visits, he meets Edward before he heads out of town. Thus, minimizing time the two males in her life would spend together which would then reduce the amount of brooding-caring-father she would have to endure.

She turned her focus back to June as she sipped her coffee. June and the, "…maddening buzz that was fizzing its way through her body." She read until the hot, slippery sex scene ended on a strange note that threw Bella for a loop. Jamie told June "'I love you.'" Jamie didn't say it aloud, he mouthed it silently – sweetly.

The phone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the table. That's what Edward was going to tell her the other day at the lake. That's why he brought her there. He planned it out, and was going to tell her how he felt. It had built for years, hadn't it? Through his awkward shyness, distance and care, he fell in love with her somewhere…and Bella didn't notice. Even when the words were on the tip of his tongue and in every touch, it never dawned on her that he felt so strongly.

Her heart raced, sweat trickled down her temples. Why that new revelation freaked her out a bit, she didn't know. Nor did she have time to sort all of it out before her phone rang.

It was Charlie. "Hey kiddo."

Bella cringed at her childhood name and the authoritative grit of his voice. "Hey Dad."

"I'll be late…flat tire."

Through puffed cheeks she exhaled a relieved breath. A little more time was always a good thing. "Okay, well…be careful."

"Always am."

That's all there was to it - two people of few words conversing.

Bella showered, trying to sooth her nerves. Then she dressed, trying to ignore her anxiety. After that, she didn't know what to do. Several more hours seemed good earlier, but now she had more time to pass.

She fixed another cup of coffee and plopped herself down on the couch. With her feet propped on the coffee table, she eyed the ominous text message screen. Texting Edward never seemed so complicated. What was she supposed to say? If he loved her then…what?

Well, she couldn't text Edward with a dirty screen. He deserved better than that. Using the corner of her shirt, she wiped away the finger smudges, giving extra attention to the line that came from reading books via Kindle app, of course. It wasn't good enough, there was a fleck on the screen, like a water droplet had dried on the inside of the clear sheet. She had to disassemble her Otter box and dig out a bottle of Windex.

"Christ, what am I doing?" she snarked at herself while holding the phone up to the light, examining it for fingerprints.

After prepping another cup of coffee, she re-cased the phone, and hopped onto the counter. 'Edward-' she typed, but deleted it - too formal.

'Hey Sizzles-' that didn't work either.

'Did you think that-'

'Can we-'

'When we were at the-'

"Gaah!" Bella cursed while tossing her phone to the couch. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him or how to even say it. It was just racing through her mind like a mouse set on finding the last piece of cheese in the world: _Did Edward love her?_

While rubbing her face with her hands it occurred to her that all she just needed was to talk to him. Quickly, she slipped off the counter and skipped to the phone.

Relief swept through her at the sound of his, "Hey there."

Nervously, she tapped her fingers on the countertop. "Where are you…you know…right now?"

He chuckled, his warm voice breaking through the crackly connection. "I'm heading to the rink for a game. You want to come along?"

Bella scowled, trying to figure out what rink, and which friends. "Sure babe. Which one?"

"Awesome, Sizzelette. We'll pick you up in a little bit."

Before she could even ask, "who's coming?" he hung up.

"Boyfriend coming over again?" Jessica sneered under her breath as she made her way through the kitchen. "I don't know what you see in him, he's such a-"

Ignoring Jess, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Her hands shook with nerves as she fumbled for clothes in the bedroom. Finding a nice t-shirt had never been so difficult. Who would be there, what would they be wearing? Should she wear a sweater or just take a jacket? Would they even be going to an ice rink?

"Of course they're going to an ice rink," Bella chided herself, irritated with her mental qualms and hang-ups. "What other kinds of rinks are there?"

Just as she settled on a pair of faded grey jeans and a purple knit sweater, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" she yelled out to Jessica as she jogged to the living room.

Icy air gushed through the doorway. Edward scooped her in his arms, crushing his lips to hers passionately. He worked his hands under her shirt while she gripped her hands in his hair.

A car horn broke the moment.

Edward laughed as he stepped around her, snatching her coat off the back of a chair. He was handsome, as always, wearing well-worn blue jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt under his black coat. Glancing down, she smiled at his boots. Always wearing his boots, sloppy and haphazard.

"Who are we with?" Bella asked as she peered through the door.

"Just some guys from the team."

"When is hockey season, anyway?"

"Now." He reached for her hand and led her from the apartment. "I'm not on a team, though. I play with the guys for fun."

Bella slipped on her coat as they neared the car, Edward opened the door for her. She saddled into the seat and he followed. Being near him, _with_ him, was comforting and unnerving at the same time. She now had that thought working through her mind: _Does he love me?_

Blond-hair sitting in the front passenger seat anchored his arm on the seat rest and turned to her. "Hi, I'm Nick. You must be Bella?"

"Nick," Edward's laughter fill the vehicle, sending a vibration through the seat and her legs. "You don't need to be so proper."

His laughter, the way it filled the space around them, set her more at ease with this sudden trip.

Motioning to the driver whom had long hair woven into a braid, Edward introduced him as, "Jefferson." The guy sitting next to her, "Michael."

Michael was leaning against the door to give her space, smiling an apology at their proximity. Smiling in return, Bella scooched close to Edward. He wrapped a warm, loving arm around her shoulder and slipped his fingers under the neck of her shirt, grazing her collarbone. She snuggled to his chest, breathing in his scent of cotton and something delicious.

"God, I've missed you." He murdered, low and soft in her ear.

Turning her face to his, she met his gaze. His eyes were soft, sweet and warm as he blew her a kiss, making her giggle.

"I've missed you too." She said while stroking the jean threads on his thigh, the friction tickling her fingertips. "Sorry I freaked out so much."

With a shrug, he leaned in to kiss her, soft and sweet. "It's okay." Another kiss. "So what changed? How long can I keep you?"

Bella ran her tongue along the smooth curve of his lips. "A few hours. Charlie said he had a flat tire."

Edward reached out to work his fingers through her hair. "Hours for a tire? Maybe I'll blow off the game and…be with you?"

"All right!" Jefferson yelled. "We're here you two lovebirds. You'll have to keep your hands off the man so he can play, Ms. Swan."

She whispered in Edward's ear, "Maybe after you play. I really want to see you on the ice, watch you work up a sweat, first." Then smiled as his cheeks turned a lovely red.

He stepped out, extending his had to her. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone. "My sister." He mouthed silently.

As Edward gave half his attention to Alice and half of his attention to playing with Bella's hair, she asked Michael, "Do we know each other?"

"Bella." Michael says while unlocking the trunk. "You're _Edward's_ girl. Everyone's heard of you. Not in a bad way, but everyone on campus knows you two are together."

Nodding, she took a duffle bag from Michael's outstretched hand, unsure of what she thought about everyone knowing they were together. That did explain some nasty looks she'd been given by random girls on campus, the one in the lunchroom the week before stood out in her mind. The idea of having what others might want sent a thrill through her. Maybe it wasn't all that bad.

x~X~x

Edward couldn't keep his hands off of Bella, who, in turn, couldn't keep her hands off of Edward. Even after Alice arrived, and his friends were openly put out by his impromptu make out session with Bella, and they decided to play a game without him, he didn't stop.

In fact, Bella wondered if he even gave two bits of a shit. He definitely didn't feel like he cared with the sounds he was making each time she nibbled at his lip.

They were in the bleachers, third row, behind the penalty box. Bella's coat lay on the floor, her hands worked under his shirt as she felt the definition of his abs. She promised herself she was going to watch him play, she really did. Though she was incredibly turned on – one real hot, wet mess – when they arrived, she did promise herself. When he came into the bleachers to hand her his wallet and keys, his shirt rode up with the slight movement he made, she tried to resist the urge to just reach out and... Bella had to touch him. It had been two days, too long, some light contact in her apartment, the car, the parking lot, the front entrance, and the stairs wasn't enough.

It was meant to be a small, sweet, innocent, loving touch at first – but he felt too good under her fingertips. Too firm, too soft, too sexy, too tasty. A grazing touch turned into a pawing motion, and then that pawing motion turned into Edward sitting in a seat and pulling her on top of him.

"Please?" he begged.

She shook her head, though there was no fervor left in her refusal. The reality of her father coming soon was being overshadowed by more important matters of the hormonal sort.

He groaned and rubbed his nose against hers in a little Eskimo kiss. "You need to stop that, then."

Grinning, she ground herself against him to frustrate him further. He snorted through his laughter.

"Okay," he said while holding his hands away from her. "No touching, then, how's that?" He stilled his movements.

Even after she tried to draw a response from him by grinding against his hard length, he sat stone still. At first it was just silly, she laughed at his stubborn display while wrapping her arms around him and scratching lightly down his back.

"Sizzles," she wheezed through her laughter, "Come on. Stop that."

Mr. Sizzles started at her, glazed eyed and straight faced.

Buckeye stared back at him. His amber eyes, glinting like topaz gems in the electric neon light of the skating rink. The resistance did nothing for her already hard to contain libido. He felt too good against her, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth that surged between them. The contact, so delicious and sinful, after days of staying apart.

Another minute passed, she couldn't take it anymore. Jabbing his ribs with her fingers, she tried to spur him on. "Enough of the staring contest. Touch me."

No response.

"Agh! I can't stand this. Come on, babe. Touch me, please."

He didn't move.

She thwacked his chest with the back of her hand, feeling a bit creeped out by his dead stare and motionless pose. "Damnit, Edward Anthony! Fuck me!"

Still nothing, Bella let her head fall back, groaning with irritation. Now intensely turned on; the need for him boiled under her skin like she was plugged into an electric socket.

Giving up, she scooted off of his lap and anchored her feet to the floor. _What now?_ She tried to think through the Edward induced haze. When an idea came to her, she looked over her shoulder and eyed the guys for a moment. They raced around the rink, their blades scraping into the ice, the puck only a faint grey slash darting around the frozen surface. Even Alice was paying attention to the game. No one was looking their way.

With shaky hands, she brought her fingers to the snap of her jeans. It would just be for a tease, she knew he wouldn't let her get too far, but still, the fear of being seen was there. That didn't stop her, though, from popping the snap. Mr. Sizzles had better control over himself than she imagined. It wasn't until the zipper was half undone that he moved to stop her.

For a moment, that's all she expected. Being flipped over his shoulder and carried toward the exit caught her by surprise. Anchoring her hands on his shoulders, she thought back to the first time they had sex in a dark office at the gala. Edward was full of surprises.

Under a stairwell, surrounded by the stale cold of an abandoned concrete hallway, he set her down. She looked around at the darkened nook, somewhat unsure of how to have sex when they couldn't lay down and he couldn't stand up all the way. He had to hunch forward, his shoulders grazing the underside jut of the steps.

Edward wasted no time, though, with trying to work through the logistics. He pinched the pull of her pant zipper between his fingers and finished what she started. A moment later her jeans were down to her ankles. He turned her around and leaned her forward, guiding her hands to the wall.

Bella turned her head to peer at him, thinking if how ridiculous she had been to shove him away. As she arched her back and he slid his hard cock into her, the desire to put distance between them vanished. For a moment, it felt as if it was never there. Skin on skin.

"God, I've missed how you feel," he groaned out as he worked himself into her with a slow, measured glide.

She closed her eyes, melting into Edward's words mixed with his touch: hot, strong, and needy. The unease she felt, the worry and concern – all gone.

"I've missed your skin," he whispered into her ear just before sucking her soft earlobe into his mouth.

The sensation shot through to her nerve endings, making her shudder and moan.

"Bella," he uttered breathlessly, "I've missed the way you taste."

A flaming chill worked its way through her as his moist breath skimmed the flesh of her neck, firing her senses, and leaving her feeling raw. Regret fizzed inside of her. She missed him, too, everything about him. At that moment, she didn't even understand why she had pushed him away. The emotions, the issues, were burned away with his every thrust inside of her.

"Don't do that again." He growled low in her ear. "Please? It's too much. All this time I've wanted nothing more than to just be with you."

Bella opened her eyes, watching his hands flex overtop of hers as he held her palms to the cinder block wall.

He still himself inside of her. "I couldn't sleep. They dragged me out here today to get my mind off of things. I understand what you're worried about, but I'm not that strong, Bella."

"I love being with you, too." Regret bloomed, smothering her ardor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

She inhaled loudly, the air stinging her throat, when he thrust into her greedily, grunting softly. Bella knew how he felt, holding still took too much effort when they were in contact, especially after being apart for so long. It was impossible to try to freeze like a statue when all it took was a simple electrical impulse and a flex of the muscles. With every movement, every flex of his fingers against hers, she knew that he needed her as much as she needed him. The knowledge, his words, turned her into molten iron, soft and compliant.

He worked himself inside of her again, painfully slow. His thickness against her smooth wetness time and again stirred her need. Her heart felt like it was churning and glowing with each frantic beat. He felt incredible against her; hot and alive as he curled himself around her.

"Promise me," he murmured as he slid his hands over the curve of her wrists.

Her throat closed, the tenseness in his voice shook her nerves, her stomach clenched. Her voice echoed off the walls as she said, "I promise."

He was silent for a moment as he slowed the rhythm of his hips. "Do you?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Edward, I swear!" Bella laughed at the levity in his voice, now he was just playing with her.

Gasping loudly, he swatted her bared backside. "No swearing, Ms. Swan."

A pleasant tingle danced up her spine. "Mm, Mr. Cullen." With a giggle, the tension dissipated.

Edward leaned back from her and slid the hem of her shirt up to expose her lower back. He gripped the curves of her waist as he shifted his rhythm; his thrusts becoming more intense, deeper. The backs of her thighs began to ache from being stretched taut, but it was a delicious kind of ache – she knew it would leave her feeling sore the next day.

Teasing her skin with his fingertips, he slowly worked one hand down to her clit. Granting her a slight, modest touch, that had her groaning loudly. He teased her swollen bud with a circular motion, swirling his fingers around and around, spreading her wetness. The muscles of her thighs fluttered wildly, she clenched around his cock to gain some control over the sensation. Her legs felt like they were being shredded from the relentless pulse.

Bella resisted the need to come, she didn't want to be lost yet, fuzzy and floating through a sexual haze. He was so skilled with his hands, though, it was impossible to fight it. Edward worked his fingers with more pressure, forcing her into an intense orgasm. With tight, shallow gasps she surrendered to the sensation – like bolts of passionate lightening, red-hot, boiling through her veins.

"I love being the one to make you cum," he moaned as he chased his orgasm. His muscles flexed and tensed as his own pleasure worked through him. The sounds of his unbridled orgasm still rang through the large, open hallway as they both struggled for breath.

He helped her pull her pants back up, snapping them closed and kissing her belly before dropping her shirt. As she struggled with his zipper he kissed the top of her head.

"You promise?"

She looked up at him, a grin breaking out on her swollen, pink lips. "I promise."

"Good." He pulled her chin toward him for a lingering kiss. "After we play I'm coming to your place and I'll be there when your Dad gets in."

* * *

**References in this chapter: **Quotes from 'Reawakening' by Charlotte Stein - chapter 10.

"Always am." – Charlie's sendoff from Twilight.

"You must be Bella" - Edward's greeting to Bella from Twilight.

**Thanks for reading – I do feel bad about putting this off. It was unavoidable, though. Life came knocking, troubles stirred, other projects had to be seen to, and then I couldn't get back into Jezabella's mind for a while. I tried to pick this story back up several times but my other projects, being technical and strict, made writing her crazed thoughts quite a chore. Good news: it's summer, my husband's back after a year of being gone on military duty, and I don't have grey hair, yet.**

**You might notice that I'm using punctuation and grammar with more skill and maybe, hopefully, my improved writing skills will show in the chapters to come. At first I didn't know if this would ruin the story, but it really was an unavoidable change in my writing style. That was my goal, though, when I started writing fanfiction. I chose this venue to practice and improve on all of the skills necessary to write entirely original work. So I decided not to care too much. I have a feeling that my messy and disorganized writing in the previous chapters might have cause some readers to back away from the story (in fact, I know it is – I was told so numerous times). As a result: I might actually go back and edit, I'm not sure. Maybe just a modest amount – no revising or structural changes, just technical riff raff – grammar, punctuation, spelling. I've done light revisions before, but I can still improve things quite a bit. **


	13. Chapter 13: Abracadabra

**Jezabella – Chapter 13 – Abracadabra**

* * *

Edward kissed Bella's cheek and ran his hands along her spine, sending a warm tingle through her before he turned to head down the steps. Grinning foolishly, she sat and watched the guys skate into a huddle in the middle of the ice.

The row of plastic formed seats bounced as Bella's foot wriggled. Alice smiled, stood, and moved to sit next to her. Before her hind end settled into the chair she was talking.

"So how are things?" Alice prodded.

"Good." Bella didn't know what else to say, so she nodded awkwardly, her eyes on the game of five-on-five that was under way.

As Edward skated his way to the centre of the rink, his blades carved through the ice with a scraping sound. He jostled the hockey stick in his hands in an appealing rhythm. She was right about him, he looked sexy geared up with a simple set of pads, gloves and a helmet to play. There was something about the…

"He talked about you all the time. Bella this, Bella that. When he told me you two were finally together I thought he was joking."

"Ah." Bella nodded again, cracking the lid off of her Dr. Pepper to take a drink. "We talked about that…a little." Very little, it occupied all of five minutes if you clocked it out – give or take.

"Of course, he'd never joke around about you. He was always so serious. He'd get offended over the slightest negative comment that anyone made about you."

Cringing, Bella shied away from the direction of Alice's conversation. No doubt there was a lot of trash talk at her expense. Having thought about it in the last few days, she didn't really blame anyone if they did.

"So," Alice chirped.

Bella pressed her lips into a thin smile as she looked at Alice and, again, considered that shoving people away is why she felt so disconnected. She even declared not knowing things was a pet peeve, but made no effort to do anything about it. The song lyrics, _"Out of sight out of mind, the motto of betrayal,"_ raced through Bella's head. She smiled and struggled to come up with conversation of any sort. "So…how are things with you and…?" Her eyebrows went up, she was lost as to who Alice was married to.

"Jasper," Alice prompted. "Things are great. He's that one, with the black skates and the red wrist guard," she said as she pointed out to the ice.

"Oh." Searching the ice, Bella's eyes eventually found Jasper. Short, wavy blond hair bobbed from under the rim of his helmet as he graced across the glass like surface in a wide arc. He glided behind Edward and intercepted the puck with a curved, swooping motion of his stick. The noise of them playing on the ice echoed off the safety glass and aluminium ceiling.

Alice's voice rambled, "…he started a new business a few weeks ago with his partner, Brian, so he's home a little less, but that's ok, all I do is study anyway."

Bella watched as Edward maneuvered skilfully to take back the puck, guiding it away from Jasper with a quick back-and-forth of his stick. "What type of business?"

"This one's a bookstore. It was his goal when he was in college. It's called The Shelf."

The cute name made Bella think of 'The Elf on the Shelf.' Though she was too old to have it as part of her Christmas traditions growing up, she still thought it was a fun story. One of the few children's stories she ever read. "No, I haven't, but I haven't tuned into much since moving down this way. I'll have to check it out sometime with Edward." Speaking of which, he lined up the puck for a goal, but after striking it into the air, it was blocked by the goalie's hand.

"How was your date on Friday?" Alice asked as she rummaged through her purse.

Bella's clenched her fists after another missed goal. "Friday was great."

The trip out to the lake on Friday was a strange mix of good and bad, but that wasn't a topic to bring up with "the boyfriend's sister."

"You should have heard the fight that Edward and Emmett had over the plans, it was funny. They're always at it, no question that they're brothers." Alice nudged Bella's knee with hers. "You haven't met Emmett, have you?"

Bella managed a genuine-enough smile when she said, "Not yet, looking forward to it, though." It wasn't quite true, but maybe if she pushed herself into uncomfortable situations enough she'd come out on top. Sort of stumbling up the mountain, if you will.

"Oh, he's great. He's such a turd."

Bella chuckled. "We haven't been together very long so I haven't heard much about everyone, yet."

"Emmett's a practical joke type of guy, but he's great, he'll really go out of his way to stand up for someone. Just like Edward with you." Alice stood, her fists thrust into the air, screeching loudly, "Watch the attitude, Pepper Pot!"

An embarrassed blush burned Bella's cheeks as she stood, unsure of what Alice was yelling about. Whatever it was seemed purely hockey-related. Edward bumped someone's shoulder and flicked the puck to the goal, the goalie's mitt shot out to deflect it, but it passed just under his elbow. Edward glided to a teammate and gave a high-five before waiving in Bella's direction. Giggling, she waved back.

With her eyes on Edward, she sat down. "What do you mean, like Edward with me?"

"Of course he didn't tell you that, did he?" Alice said, her voice hinted at annoyance. "He use to get in fights all the time in high school over you."

"What?" Bella scowled, her hands paused mid-motion as she brushed locks of hair behind her ears.

"Oh yeah," Alice nodded, "fighting all the time. He was suspended twice. Don't tell him I told you…" She looked around as if they were being monitored closely. "But when Chief, I mean, your dad, arrested him that one time, I could have sworn he would have spent time in jail if he wasn't defending you."

Confusion broke over Bella's face as she was provided with – yet another – unbelievable snippet about her Mr. Sizzles. "Edward was arrested…over me?" It was cliché, through and through. The brave warrior valiantly fighting for the maiden's hand. Laughing at herself out loud, she snorted in a very unmaiden-like fashion.

Alice nodded emphatically, her smile touched her eyes. She raked her fingers through her short, messy hair. "He didn't tell you that at all, I know."

"No, he didn't." Bella's tried to imagine her sweet, shy, slightly nerdy and self-conscience boyfriend being a troublesome kid tossing punches and taking hits. It didn't make any sense. "I didn't imagine he was ever the 'fighting with the guys' type." As she watched Edward slam one of his friends against the rink wall, she questioned her statement.

"He wasn't," Alice flinched at what was happening on the ice. "Not all the time, just for you."

"Alice?" Bella asked quietly as Edward used his stick and hand to shove apart two fighting friends. "I don't think I know anyone, or him, very well at all."

"Edward's not the talking type, is he?"

"No, hardly."

"You aren't either." She said, her tone was soft, though. "It's ok, some people just aren't like that. I bet you it makes things more tense and uneasy between the two of you, though."

Bella drank from her bottle and eyed Alice cautiously. At first, her natural defensive walls went up, but Alice was being truthful, Bella was not the talkative type. It was a statement of fact rather than an accusative opinion. The topic came up countless times with Edward, she thought much more than she said. With a sigh, she fessed up to this personal fault, "Guilty, I suppose. Up until recently it didn't matter that much, I didn't have to pay attention and talk about things."

"Yeah, I know. That's how it is for Jas. He goes to work, the world happens while he's away, and he's lost when he comes back home. When Newton, you now, _the_ Helmet Newton, was killed in a car accident, he didn't know why on earth I was even crying."

Bella glanced at the clock, two hours passed since she was at home in her apartment. With Edward's sister sitting next to her, willing to talk, it seemed senseless not to pry and ask questions. Several serious and tense questions came to mind, like the subject of love, but that seemed much too deep to get into with anyone. She aimed for a lighter topic, instead.

"He told me you were friends with Angela in high school."

"Oh, Angela's great. It's hard to hate her, she's smart and sweet. She used to help me with my homework all the time. I don't bum notes off of her like I use to. How's she doing? You and her are close, right?"

"Yeah, she's my best friend, but, I don't keep up with her as much as I should. We performed together for your Mom's charity the other week."

"Oh that's right, my parents told me about you being there. Violin, right? Edward always had a thing for orchestra stuff."

Leaning forward in her plasti-formed seat, Bella pressed her fingers to her lips to stop a laugh. "Yeah, he enjoyed it." Her skin felt uncomfortably hot as she imagined just how _much_ he enjoyed it. Whatever their first time for sex was going to be, having it in a dark office after her surprise performance wasn't what she imagined. "So…how much did he talk about me?"

"Not at all, at first." The seat bounced as Alice turned toward Bella, tucking her foot underneath her butt. "Emmett thought he was gay, actually, because he didn't show any interest in any of the girls. Of course, they'd fight about it all the time, but Edward never said anything. He was just shy like that.

"I'm not sure what changed, though, they were on the couch watching something on TV, Mom and me were in the kitchen, and the next thing I know Emmett's running around the house singing, 'Edward and Bella kissing in a tree.'"

Adverting her eyes, Bella's face heated with embarrassment as she brought her knees to her chest and latched her hands around her calves.

Alice continued, "Yeah, so I don't know what they were going on about, but that was the first I heard about you. After that I asked a lot of questions about you, like what grade you were in and such. After a while he'd just talk about you all the time.

"He was batty over you long before he ever said anything. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your grades. It was cute at first, but after a while went by and he never asked you out or anything, it got sort of annoying. Like, _ask her out already!_ You know?"

Laughing, Bella nodded her head. It was either Alice's enthusiasm, or the subject of Edward's on-going infatuation with her that had her feeling a little bubbly.

The subject of Edward drifted to Emmett, who Alice swore stopped picking on Edward so much after he started dating Rosalie. Then, Alice saw a scuff on her shoes, and it was all fashion-talk for the rest of their time together which Bella felt no guilt at tuning out.

After an hour of playing, the guys called a stop to the game when two were in a fight and one came away with a broken nose. Since they drove to the rink in two vehicles, everyone else was going to have to leave in one. Jasper and Alice planned to leave with Jefferson, DJ, and the injured one that Bella didn't meet.

Before headingout, Jasper made a point to shake Bella's hand. Tall with blond curly hair and blue eyes, he made her think of an actor she saw on TV, but she couldn't remember which one. His mouth turned up in a stunning smile as Alice wrapped herself around him while he spoke, his voice boasting a thick, southern accent, "Goodnight, Bella. You'll have to come over and study with Alice sometime, or stop by the store. I'll give you a discount for tolerating her." Then, he winked.

Bella pursed her lips and raised her brow, now she knew how Edward found out about her reading material so easily, Jasper was probably in on it. At any time in the past this would have been embarrassing or rub her raw with anger, but now, it was just a sweet little nothing.

"Yeah, that'd be fun!" Alice clamped her arms around Bella whom returned it with a genuine pleasantness.

~x~

Leaning against the safety glass, Bella watched Edward as he made his way to the player's bench. The sweat caked hair that clung to his forehead didn't make Mr. Sizzles any less attractive. In fact, when he sat on the bench and bent forward to unlace his skates, Bella was certain it only made him more appealing. His damp shirt clung to every dip and flexing muscle as he drew the cord through the metal eyelets.

She couldn't wipe the silly grin off her face, she didn't even try. It was true, what Edward said about his sister, she was the fuel for the engine. Bella felt a bit buoyant after chatting with her, actually. The thoughts and worries that shook Bella's mind earlier were still there, but less at the surface. She wondered earlier in the day if Edward loved her and now she couldn't imagine the answer being 'no.' The idea of him being with her when her father coming to visit didn't seem so daunting, either.

As he stood, bending to pack his gear into a duffle bag, Bella's heartbeat sped. The muscles of his thighs flexed and bulged against the fabric of his pants. He looked up to her, boasting his lovable crooked grin that made her breath hitch and her skin tingle. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were bright and excited. He stepped through the gate, into the stands, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Enjoying yourself?"

She breathed in his scent – sweat and ice. "Yeah. I enjoyed the barbarous display. Nothing more appealing than the cruel abuse of a plastic disk to really cap off the day."

Edward skimmed her cheek with his nose before kissing her. In a soft voice he asked, "Was it brutal enough for you?"

"Oh yes, blood was spilt, my craving has been satisfied." She popped up on her toes to kiss him again.

He pulled away, pressing his chin to her forehead. "We need to get going, to see the parental unit." He slung the duffle over one shoulder and draped his arm around her "Did you and Alice find something to talk about?"

Her cheeks were sore from smiling too much but that couldn't stop the grin. "Yeah, a few things."

~x~

Bella felt a little tense, but she wasn't nearing panic when they rounded the corner and the apartment came into view. Her father's old, red Chevy wasn't there yet. She glanced at the dashboard clock – 4:20.

The vehicle jolted as the front wheels bumped the curb and came to a stop. Edward popped the door open, offering his hand to Bella as he stepped out.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Michael called out as the door shut. With a flick of her wrist, Bella gave him a little wave.

When the trunk fell shut and Edward tapped on the roof once, Michael drove away. "Well," Edward said as turned to Bella. "I think that means we're only allowed to eat all the food in the house."

"How do enchiladas and rice sound?" She quirked a brow and slipped her arms around his waist, looking up at him.

"Edible," he slipped his hands underneath the back of her coat, sending a shiver down her spine. "I'm starved." Unexpectedly, he scooped her up, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, and carried her to the door.

She kicked her feet. "Help me!" she shrieked as laughter bubbled out of her mouth.

He took off toward the back of the apartment building. "How about I take you in the back door this time?"

Her eyes popped open wide and tears poured from her cheeks. "Mr. Sizzles, that wasn't right." She whacked his chest playfully.

His face went pale with shock, then he burst out with deep, throaty laughter that echoed off the brick facing. "Well I didn't mean it that way, but they say don't knock it 'til you try it." When they came to the back step he dropped her feet to the pavement.

The mood shifted as she leaned against the door and wrapped her hands around his neck. His lips met hers for a deep, tense kiss that sent a fizzing tingle under her skin. The cold breeze that blew through her hair made her kiss him with more greed as she imagined getting inside, naked, and warm with him. She bit playfully at his lip and he stepped closer to press himself to her.

As she slid her hands around his waist, her mind on the snap of his jeans, there was a knock on the glass that froze her in place. Her heart seized painfully with panic and her palms felt cold and clammy.

Jessica wouldn't knock on the door.

Neither would Angela.

Slowly, Edward's eyes lifted to the glass behind her. The way his breath hitched in his lungs told her what she already knew, her father was inside the apartment, standing at the door, watching them make out.

She wanted to shrink and disappear into the ground below. The corner of the apartment wasn't too far away, she could run and be gone. Angela's place had a pull out couch, she could bunk there for a while.

Edward's hands tensed on her waist and he stepped her away as the knob turned. A warm draft of air ruffled his hair as the door was pulled open.

"Chief Swan," Edward said, his throat too dry to put any volume into his words, he swallowed nervously.

With her back still facing the door, Bella tried to summon her courage to turn around. The way Edward's hands didn't leave her waist made her feel a little less worried. _Could have been worse, _she thought in an attempt to console her desire to duck and hide.

"Hey Kiddo." Her father's voice was so much deeper and louder in person. She hadn't seen him since the semester began in January.

Awkwardly, she turned to face him with a nervous yet genuine smile. No matter what, it was always nice to see him. "Hi Dad, I didn't know you were here."

Charlie pursed his lips and quirked his brow. "I can see that." The corner of his lip turned up in a slight smile, just barely visible under the tuft of mustache.

She took that as a good sign as she held Edward's hand and stepped inside.

* * *

**[Author's Note]**

Yes, I'll leave you hanging in this awkward moment for a while :) But don't worry - with shorter chapters I'll be able to update more often (I know - I've said that before). In my defense: this last week I didn't have internet access at all. :(

The reviews are encouraging – keep them coming and I'll keep writing.

Don't panic – I didn't kill of Mike Newton or anyone related to him. Helmet Newton was a famous fashion photographer. It was only after I decided to put him into this that I realized they had the same last name.

Pepper Pot is a hockey term for a quick, fast player.


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